


how you besiege me (and feed me)

by nuttyshake



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: 80s lore scrapped for spare parts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Future Fic, Implied Sexual Content, Lack of Communication, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 04, Post-War, References to Depression, Self-Destructive Tendencies, characters are bad at feelings, side bow/glimmer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuttyshake/pseuds/nuttyshake
Summary: It was natural, right? To want that for herself: someone to tell her who she was, in her entirety, in her truth, whenever she forgot. For her heart to lurch forward and goGod, give it to me, where do I startand then fall flat when it came up empty, like expecting a three-course meal only to end up swallowing air.Adora had always been good at self-control - one of the perks of a life spent in service of whatever she thought was the greater good. But now thishungerhad started in her, and there was nothing preventing it from developing further.And it was all Catra’s fault.A year after the war, Adora returns to Etheria. She finds everything has changed, except the thing that really should have.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 86
Kudos: 294





	1. Chapter 1

Eternia was beautiful this time of year.

Adora had always been one to enjoy the sunshine and all sorts of outdoor activities, even before finding out everything the world outside the Horde had to offer. But Eternia - it was designed like a literal wonderland, sky painted bright purple and streaked with golden lights. It was a summer for travelling to the Pink Cliffs at the edge of the known universe, for dancing around bonfires, for watching the stars fall on the beach - and she was spending it holed up in Castle Grayskull, listening to her people’s complaints all day without so much as a snack in-between.

This morning, the court had gathered in the throne room for the daily proceedings, involving, as they had for some time now, some villager from far away demanding the princess punish some no-good sorcerer who'd been caught trying to poison her and her wife. A scene which was the order of the day for everyone born and raised in (or, in Adora's case, abducted from) Eternia, but which combined the planet's two most interesting defining characteristics for foreigners to see, which were a penchant for gossip at any hour of the day and on any available subject (it had taken Adora a long time and quite a few shows of power to get her guards to stop commenting on her forehead) and the unbridled, wide-spread use of magic even in the most common everyday situations. Everyone had magic in themselves, to some degree, but some, more gifted than others, used their talents for evil - in this case, apparently, trying to make happily married women fall in love with them by slipping a potion in their drinking well.

Adora always hoped her subjects didn’t notice how out of it she was - on her arrival, she’d promised to give all of herself to this planet, just as she’d given her all to Etheria - but by the hateful words the villager had thrown at her for not having apprehended the culprit yet, she’d clearly failed this time.

Spinnerella and Netossa, invited by Adora for the occasion, were perched on two smaller thrones by her sides and followed the exchange closely. Their eyes were now flickering back and forth between princess and subject, probably expecting the conflict to escalate some more, but Adora had to disappoint on that front, too. She was known all around the kingdom as a lenient princess, who encouraged her subjects to be honest and open with her, starting with the very way they addressed her, and she had neither the desire nor the necessary strength left to go on a power trip now. She _had_ been weak, she _had_ been tired, and she could freely admit she _had_ slowed down the investigations for her own personal gain.

So maybe a year of ruling alone on Eternia, away from all of her friends, had taken a toll on her. Maybe hearing about She-Ra’s adventures in the Princess Alliance all the time made her long for simpler times. _Maybe_ she had decided to take advantage of this particular case to summon some old friends and go on one last mission together, and everyone but Spinnerella and Netossa had been too busy to answer the call.

That was alright. She had written letters to everyone in a rare fit of excitement, already picturing how it would be to have Bow and Glimmer there with her, maybe even reuniting more of the gang back, if she was lucky. But the moment they were sent out, her veins had filled with dread. It _had_ been a year. Her longing to see her friends again battled with her need to stay blissfully unaware of what time and distance and obligations had done to all of them.

But she hadn’t been close enough to Spinnerella and Netossa to notice that anything was amiss or for them to notice anything different about her - while still close enough that Adora was enjoying having them around. They’d brought cupcakes for her, and gifts from everyone who couldn’t come, and they’d really helped liven up the place. Nothing had changed in the time she'd known them - they, at least, were safe.

Or so she'd thought. "So, Adora -" Netossa started, hesitant.

After holding court and promising to look more into the matter, they'd retired to Adora’s chambers to catch up. Adora had really put in an effort to make them more hospitable - brought in poofy armchairs, flower vases, let the morning air in - but the truth was, her chambers had just as much personality to them than her single Force Captain room in the Horde would have. A solitary painting of her family was the only decoration: her parents, dead when the planet had been attacked by Horde Prime, nearly two decades before the Princess Alliance had managed to defeat him; her twin brother, who she still had no news from, but who was thought to be hidden away somewhere; and her, a baby still in her mother's arms. She'd helped save the universe with nothing but the power of friendship and pure force of will - including what, unbeknownst to her, was her homeland - and she'd been welcomed back into an empty room and empty castle and told it was her reward.

Adora moved her attention away from the portrait and on the two women, who were somewhat excitedly drinking their tea. "Yes?"

"We're not actually here… just to help with your investigation."

Adora didn't think she could still blush, but it was a relief to feel it coming onto her cheeks again. "Oh! I'm sorry. I've been so rude, I've barely given you a tour of the place - and I imagine you'll want the rest of the day off-"

"No, Adora," snickered Spinnerella. "I mean, yes, we would love a tour. But we're here because we have very important news to tell you."

Adora stood still and waited for the news, giving her tea another swirl. No one spoke, but Spinnerella and Netossa both sported enigmatic smiles and had their hands intertwined on Spinnerella's lap - no, belly.

It dawned on her. "You're…?" She was afraid to finish her sentence in case she read it all wrong and accidentally offended them, but they were smiling and nodding along like crazy, jumping at the chance to explain.

“Four months now!” Spinnerella said. “We’re still trying to wrap our heads around it, honestly.”

“Oh, don’t listen to her. I knew this would happen,” Netossa cut in.

“Uh-huh. That’s why you burst into tears when I gave you the news."

“I was happy! We’re so, so happy, Adora.” And she grabbed Adora’s arm and shook it repeatedly to show just how much.

Adora was breathless. In a good way, sure - Spinnerella and Netossa were more in love than anyone she ever knew, and while it was a little unexpected, she also believed they were ready for it - but in a way that kind of hurt. "Congratulations. Wow, I… I can't believe it."

“We want everyone to be there before the birth,” Spinnerella said, “so we’ll be celebrating for the entire week leading up to it. Just a few dinner parties, I doubt I’ll be able to move much - but we’d really like it if you could join us.”

“Sure!” Adora yelled out before she could stop herself, pushing down all of her fears about going back home - no, but _Eternia_ was her home, she forgot - before they closed off her throat. “Sure, of course, you didn’t even have to ask, I’m- _wow._ ”

Still, while Spinnerella and Netossa rambled on about what they were planning and how excited they were for everyone to be back together again, Adora couldn’t help but throw a glance at her desk. The letters she got in response to her summoning were still laid out there, and by now she almost had their contents memorized. 

Glimmer wrote excitedly about the reparations going on in Bright Moon, how princesses and sorcerers from all over Etheria were coming in every day to help. The relationships between kingdoms were being re-established, and so was trade. Former Horde soldiers who’d either defected or helped with the war against Horde Prime had been granted an official pardon and were slowly being integrated into society. She told Adora about Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio, how they were currently serving as Bright Moon guards but would be allowed to switch careers whenever they figured out what they actually wanted to do.

Not much was said about Glimmer herself outside of her queenly duties, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for her friend. Hints about her state of mind were related in Bow's letter, instead. He was worried about her never taking a break, but building Etheria back up brought her great satisfaction, and she did seem very happy. She spent a lot of downtime with Frosta and the other princesses, so he didn't see her as much anymore, and when he did, it was mostly so Glimmer could be updated on how his fathers were doing at the library, now that so much information had resurfaced about the First Ones and the history of the planet. Adora could guess he didn't feel too good about it, but by the measured, uncharacteristically put-together style of his writing you'd never know.

There was no letter from Catra, and Adora should know better than to expect one by now. The two of them hadn't talked since Adora had left Etheria, and hadn't had a semi-friendly conversation since their day at the Crystal Castle, which had ended with Catra leaving Adora hanging from a cliff. Adora hadn't even gotten to say goodbye, because the new princess of the Magicats was constantly busy on official business and wouldn't have come to the send-off party even if anyone had thought to invite her.

There was no reason at all for her to hope for a letter every time. At worst, Catra didn't even know she was gone. At best, she knew and just didn't care. They might have worked together to stop the Horde years before, but that was the extent to which their relationship had been fixed. They'd never seen each other again afterwards.

It wasn't like Adora missed her. Missing someone, she found, was a more active feeling. She missed Bow and Glimmer, for example, because she thought of them often and found herself wishing she could be with them. She missed Etheria, as much as she didn’t want to, because she constantly compared the two planets and thought one better than the other. _Missing_ required periodical acknowledgment of the fact. But Adora never thought about Catra if she could help it; whatever had been between them, she'd grown out of, like an old pair of shoes she could still admire without necessarily wanting to wear again. 

The real problem wasn’t missing her - it was, rather, that she _permeated_ Adora. She inhabited all of Adora’s memories and every nook of her body and flowed in her bloodstream; she was in the way Adora spoke and in the way she moved. She could no sooner cut Catra out of her life than she could cut off part of herself - all she _could_ do was hide her away. Keep her locked up in some remote part of her brain, so that Catra wouldn’t cross her mind as often, that Adora wouldn’t look for her at her side, wouldn’t expect to find her at the foot of her bed at night. It had worked well enough during the war; but now that that distraction was gone, it was getting harder by the day.

The idea that this person who had been beside her all her life, whatever she did and wherever she went, was leading a completely different life, in a completely different place, with people who weren't Adora to make her laugh - it wasn't necessarily _better_ or _worse_ than before; it was just _weird_. Thinking about it made her feel _weird_ inside, and she should’ve been over it by now, and yet -

She watched Netossa rub her hands gently over Spinnerella’s baby bump like Adora wasn’t even in the room, Adora’s fingers inching towards Bow and Glimmer’s separate letters to read them once more. Being adamant to forget had never made Adora too good with change.

  


That night, her reflection mocked her. Her hair tied in a bun, eyes dry and sparkless, her frame crumpling under the pressure of keeping her head high and back straight. It was hard to believe that this was the same person who’d carried the sword of She-Ra not too long before. 

_Is_ this _who you are now?_ the one who should've been removed from her mind long ago taunted.

She tilted her head to the left, then to the right. Her mirror image did the same, but it was - unsettling. Her own self-perception hadn’t shifted at all, mostly because she hadn’t allowed herself to think about it, but she’d grown into a stranger while she wasn’t looking. This pristine ghost of a girl, long-faced and tired and lonely; she didn't much like herself now.

She tried to call for She-Ra’s powers, as she’d already done a thousand times after breaking the sword and stopping the Heart of Etheria from firing - but to no avail. The magic had vanished from her, leaving only a light thrumming behind, and none of her attempts to get it back had worked so far.

_Is it who I'm supposed to be?_

Because Adora loved being useful; and so when Eternia had latched onto her for help, and given her an identity back, and expected her to fill those shoes immediately, she had. And because Adora was nothing if not dedicated to her task, she'd never taken them off.

Her friends must've realized she was different, but decided not to comment on it. Change was a part of life, after all. All of them would continue to change throughout their lives, year after year, and so would the world around them - and Adora would stay here, crystallized in her final form, and miss all of it. How could she ever catch up with the rest of them now? How could she catch up with _herself_? Where did she even start?

She heard a different voice in her head now. Older, kinder, fighting to make herself heard among the mess. _You need to go back to the beginning. The_ very _beginning._

The day before leaving for Etheria, her hair was back in a ponytail for the first time in years.

  


Catra didn’t know what she was doing at a party for princesses, but she had been invited, and Scorpia had somehow managed to convince her that it would be rude not to show up. Even though the net princess and the wind princess weren’t connected in any way with the Magicat kingdom - or any kingdom at all, really - Catra could use all the allies she could get, since she’d been living on the benevolence of the other princesses since the peace talks. She’d helped in the war, sure, and she’d been rewarded for it; but she’d also been a last-minute addition to their ranks, and no one ever passed the chance to point it out. If push ever came to shove, she’d either be isolated from the rest or the weakest link.

So she held her head high, her hands in place behind her back, as conversation stopped and the crowd parted around her. Not respectfully, no; all of her public appearances were still received with suspicion, at best, and downright spite at worst. But they still parted for her. She’d caught their attention, got them talking about her. That was all that mattered to Catra as she looked around, smirk in place, for the hosts. 

She could make an effort for one night. Hang out with Scorpia and Entrapta, maybe, who she hadn’t seen in a while. They were both so hyped for this event they’d probably just string Catra along the whole time and she wouldn’t even have to talk much. She was pretty confident in her ability to get through the party unscathed.

She looked for them right away, eager to see some friendly faces - and found Adora instead. 

It was weird; she seemed to fill space differently. If Catra hadn't been attuned to her every move, if she hadn't felt the distinct throbbing in the middle of her chest, she would've needed a moment to adjust her memory of Adora to this new version of her. She looked exactly the same; so much so, that she looked more like someone trying very hard to give their best Adora impersonation, but failing to pick up on what exactly made her… her.

She curtsied in front of Spinnerella and Netossa, who were ecstatic to see her and immediately complimented her dress. She had perfected her curtsying technique even more, so that all that trying-too-hard, endearing Adora awkwardness was gone. Catra had flared up instinctively at the sight of her, as she always did - whether out of joy, fury or despair, because everything she felt about Adora, she always felt too much - but she was already deflating, sinking back into the cold. 

Adora’s arms hung limp by her side while Netossa threw her arms around her, and then some of the other princesses. No one commented on it or seemed to notice anything was wrong. Catra was outraged on Adora’s behalf, but even moreso on her own. It didn’t matter that it had been a year since Adora had left Etheria, and even more since she’d left the Horde, and that she should’ve been out of Catra’s mind by now: these were still the people who’d taken Adora away from her, and they didn’t even notice it wasn’t really _Adora_.

She wouldn’t cause a scene, though. She still had so much to make up for that it would be a long time until she could ruin another planet-wide event again. She just waited until the princesses gave “Adora” some space to breathe, and then she snatched her away from the buffet table before someone could follow her there. God, for being such terrible friends, they sure were _smothering_. 

The small spark of surprise in Adora’s eyes almost caught her off-guard, but Catra didn’t let that stop her. She was tired of being messed with. Torturing her in private was one thing, but to do it in public, in front of everyone else, and while they were trying to keep the peace?

Catra shoved Adora and watched her regain her balance immediately, tall and proud and… beautiful, sure, but in a terrible way. It only made her angrier.

"What game are you playing?"

Adora took a few seconds to register those words, blinking. Catra suddenly got a flash of Princess Prom - her dipping Adora, her leg firm between Catra's, the soft little gasp in Catra’s ear, the flicker of Adora’s eyes to Catra's lips.

Finally, Adora spoke. "I… what?"

It was the most unsatisfying response to anything ever, which, she had to admit, kind of threw a wrench in her suspicions. Still, because Catra was nothing if not prideful, and the alternative was still too unsettling to consider, she went on: "Drop it. This is your worst interpretation to date."

Adora was confused for a few more seconds, until realization dawned in her eyes. "You think I'm Double Trouble?"

"I don't _think_ , I know."

"Yeah, you really _don't_ think. That hasn't changed." And then she shoved her back, to Catra's surprise. They hadn't exactly parted on good terms - or any terms, really - but Adora had never been this flippant towards her, this - dismissive. She always either worked herself into indignant rage until she was red in the cheeks, or… was that a _smirk_ right there?

Catra really couldn’t be sure. It looked more like a grimace than anything, and the vicious spark that usually came with it was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was just that desperate to find a connection between the Adora she knew and the Adora she now had in front of her - someone who she was definitely _not_ an authority over.

She _could_ ’ve just told her all that. Apologized for never sending a letter, told her she’d missed her and that she still wished they could patch things up, but mostly that she was worried about her. Scorpia’s voice in her head told her it was the most constructive thing to do, but her pride warped her words so that it all came out as a low, breathy: “What the hell _happened_ to you?”

“What _happened_ , I come back after a year to support my friends and I get attacked, how should I feel-”

"You know what? Forget it. I don't know why I bother." _It's not worth it_ , Catra told herself.

She hadn’t planned to get up close and personal with Adora tonight, and now that she'd made sure there was no shapeshifting involved, it was no use keeping the conversation going. Catra _was_ doing better, that's what everyone told her; but part of healing was letting go of what was too broken to fix. Scorpia and Entrapta had been nice enough to forgive her when they were under no obligation to, but the cut between her and Adora ran much, much deeper. She'd worked hard not to let her life revolve around her since Adora had been gone, and she wouldn't give up the _second_ Adora showed up in her life again.

She started to walk away - _it's not worth it, it's not_ \- and back to the party, which, at the moment, was just a bunch of people who struggled to tolerate her. But of course, Adora didn’t let it slide.

"Catra," was all she said, all that it took. Of course Adora would keep her from going, and grab Catra's wrist too for good measure, like her name alone in Adora's mouth wouldn't be enough. Of course Catra would shake her off, but eventually choose to stay put anyway. There they were, rehearsing the same, tired old script, and nothing ever changed. "Don't I even get a _hello_?"

As Catra looked her over again, a pain throbbed at her center. "Hello."

"Good. We're off to a good start. Next you should ask me how I am. That's how a conversation with someone you haven't seen in a long while is supposed to go."

Catra scoffed and shook her off. "You've grown prissy. The Adora I knew would have accepted being slammed against a wall as the conversation starter that it was."

Now _that_ was a smirk. Stiff and tentative, sure, and tinged with an air of superiority, too - but a smirk nonetheless. "My bad. Etherian customs fly right past me sometimes."

"Stop being so pretentious, you've been gone for _a year_."

"A really long year." She frowned, and Catra got the distinct impression that Adora wanted her to ask about it, so she did what she did best and defied Adora's expectations by staying silent. Adora's shoulders dropped when she realized she'd have to lead the conversation herself. "I'm actually glad to be here again. Eternia is cool, but it's just not the same without Bow and Glimmer and -" she paused for a second and shrugged, "everyone."

 _And me?_ Catra wondered, but would never ask. _Have you missed me? Have you thought about me, even once?_

But that was a stupid question. This wasn't the first time Adora left her behind. If she hadn't spared a thought for her after leaving the Horde, she _definitely_ hadn't spared a thought for her when she'd left to rule Eternia. Catra hadn't really tried to turn things around either: Adora had made it crystal clear she wanted nothing to do with her, and so the best reparation Catra could make to her former best friend was to respect that wish.

Only all of that had been for nothing, because Adora seemed determined to find entertainment in Catra's discomfort that night, instead of keeping her distance as Catra had expected her to. Sure, it was just small talk - actively avoiding each other all night would have made things awkward for all parties involved - but faking disinterest, struggling for words, having to read into everything Adora did, was already taking a toll on her. She wanted to slip into easy, casual conversation with Adora that would make her feel half alive again or not bother at all.

“Well, things are not the same around here, too. We’ve been hard at work almost non-stop.” With a cutting glare, Catra stared down a princess who was going to steal the last tuna sandwich from the table, sending the poor girl running. It was a painful reminder of how far she still had to go with them, but she _did_ get to shove that sandwich in her mouth, so it wasn’t all bad. “I mean, not _me_ specifically, because they don’t trust me enough to let me _do_ anything, but you know, everyone else.”

“But you’re doing your part, right? With the Magicats.”

Catra laughed bitterly. “Sure. The princesses oversee things above ground, I oversee the planet’s core. It’s like being on fancy house arrest.”

To her surprise, Adora chuckled too. “I’m starting to think that’s just what ruling is. I don’t know why we glorified the idea so much when we were kids.”

She remembered nights spent up on the roof, picturing what it would be like when they had the world in their hands. Catra crying on her shoulder in bed as Adora held her closer, comforting her with promises of everything they’d build together. “Yeah,” Catra felt the pain again, and had to turn away from Adora, just in case it showed on her face, too. “The Horde propaganda was that strong, I guess.”

She felt Adora starting to turn her around again, and no matter how warm her hand was, she was determined to swat it away and focus on the buffet table - until Bow came to the rescue, grabbing Adora and wrapping her up in a bear hug. “Adora! There you are!” And without so much as a _hello_ to Catra - seriously, it was like she wasn’t even there - he dragged Adora away, blabbing on and on, “I’ve missed you so much - the Best Friend Squad is finally back together again - how was the journey here-”

Catra just watched her go. She didn’t miss it, though, when Adora looked back towards her. She wished she had; instead, now she’d be thinking about it all night.

She was eating a few tarts, still looking around for Scorpia and Entrapta, when Double Trouble sidled up to her. “You thought she was _me_?” They wore a fur coat over a purple tuxedo, and honestly, knowing them as well as she did, that checked out. “I take my craft very seriously, you know. I could never give such a lousy performance.”

Catra gave them the side-eye. “What do you mean _lousy_? People change. I would’ve thought you, of all people, would know.”

“Something else I know,” they drawled out, “is that they like to put on an act. I learned that from you.”

“I don’t put on an act,” Catra said around a mouthful of food. “Doesn’t mean I’m comfortable around everyone.”

“Sure, sure, I guess you wouldn’t get too personal with Adora,” Double Trouble shrugged, "or your family, because you don’t want to disappoint them now that you’ve finally found them. Or Entrapta, because she wouldn't understand. Or Scorpia, because you feel like you still need to make it up to her. Am I getting closer now?"

"Shut up," Catra seethed, looking around to make sure no one was overhearing them. "I'm not in the mood for one of your impromptu therapy sessions."

"Someday you will have to face it, you know. The emptiness."

"I said _shut up_ ," Catra snapped. "I'm perfectly safe, respected, with no one to tell me what to do. I have friends, a family, and a kingdom. I don't know what you think I should feel empty about."

"All that power," Double Trouble tut-tutted, almost pitifully, "all that unconditional love, self-love, familial love. And something's still missing, isn't it?"

And when she kept avoiding their gaze, wishing they could stop, just _stop_ for one damn night, they lifted her chin up towards them with a single clawed finger. "Oh, kitten," they mumbled, "now that you finally got what you needed, I was hoping you'd figured out what it was that you _wanted_."

  


Adora had never felt so loved, so needed, and so _unseen_.

She wasn’t feeling bad, exactly. She really was ecstatic to be with her friends again, and she was having fun for the first time in a long while. Bow had painted his situation with Glimmer to be a lot more dramatic than it actually turned out to be, with them instantly jumping to making up for lost time like nothing ever happened. Sure, she sometimes had to be pulled from one end of the ballroom to the other, from Glimmer’s princess group to… well, Bow, who pretty much just spent his time chasing Sea Hawk around, but if it allowed her to see everyone, she wouldn't complain. It was kind of flattering, how they all wanted her attention.

 _She_ was the problem. She was the one who didn't fit in those dynamics anymore, but was unwilling to bring anything new to them. She was being the Adora they knew, an Adora she could remember but no longer understand. It was like observing herself from a distance, mirroring the girl before her to the slightest mannerism without perceiving them as her own. She'd turned into this, survived her own murder by never looking back to reflect on it, just like before Eternia, before the Rebellion, she had left the Horde without a second thought as to what - who - she was leaving behind, in order to be She-Ra.

As she twirled around the room for the first dance, partnered with Glimmer and then Mermista, she suddenly felt very tired. The thought of the last Princess Prom ignited a sort of longing at her core, a wish for things to be simple and quiet again - not these bright lights, this music booming in her ears, this constant awareness of her surroundings guiding her every move. She’d forgotten herself every time it was requested of her to serve this or that higher cause, with the promise of peace on the other side, and it was looking more and more like she might be the only one to never reap its benefits.

 _When do_ I _stop,_ Adora asked whoever was listening as an incredibly strong Perfuma lifted her in the air and quickly set her back down with a smile. _When do_ I _rest?_

Her turn with Spinnerella was incredibly quick, mostly because Netossa was wary of having her dance for too long when she was so close to the birth, _and_ because she'd grown to be incredibly protective of her. Wherever Adora looked, there they were, engulfed in each other like the rest of the world had vanished around them. How liberating must it feel, to have someone know you that well. To not be able, nor need or want, to lie to yourself.

It was natural, right? To want that for herself: someone to tell her who she was, in her entirety, in her truth, whenever she forgot. For her heart to lurch forward and go _God, give it to me, where do I start_ and then fall flat when it came up empty, like expecting a three-course meal only to end up swallowing air.

Adora had always been good at self-control - one of the perks of a life spent in service of whatever she thought was the greater good. But now this _craving_ had started in her, and unlike on Eternia, there was nothing on Etheria preventing it from developing further.

And it was all _Catra_ ’s fault.

She'd forgotten that shutting Catra out of her heart hadn't just been the morally righteous thing to do, but something meant for Adora's own protection. Catra had known her well enough to sneak inside her head and poison her mind, and Adora had happily let her if it meant keeping her - even if she only got to hold on to the worst parts, the ugly parts. Catra made Adora senseless and selfish and was a tangible reminder of a past that Adora had needed to leave behind to brave the road ahead, proof of what Adora had been and could be again. After all this time, Catra still saw her, could still reach into her and tear Adora's heart out and show it to her, and Adora kept inching closer and closer to Catra’s side of the ballroom, switching partner after partner to reach her, begging _please tell me who to be._

When she was finally passed off to Catra, the surge of desire that overcame her was expected. Adora welcomed it in, let it grow, let it fill her. She held her breath as their fingers brushed, touched, went as far as to intertwine; but Catra, without ever meeting her gaze, only gave her one twirl and then spun out of sight.

  


_What do you want, Catra?_

Double Trouble didn’t know anything.

They were excellent at reading people, Catra could give them that; but they also never liked to admit when they were wrong, and that was how Catra was left with cryptic, oracle-like statements about her still missing something she wanted. Odds were, either Double Trouble didn't even know what they were talking about, or they were referring to the one thing Catra had been advised for her own good _not_ to want, and it was easier to believe the former than to face the latter.

She had _worked_ to earn back the love she'd pushed away. She'd had to learn how to accept it, something she was still struggling with, and to stop identifying with her pain. Being removed from Shadow Weaver's presence - she was also taught never to speak ill of the dead, but all she could say here was, good fucking riddance - had worked wonders, but like a virus, she'd infected so much of Catra's life that the only way any progress could be made was to distance herself from it all. And that included Adora. No matter how misguided Catra had been, how naive Adora had been, how everything had been against them from the start, how Catra didn't even blame Adora anymore, not really - Catra couldn't keep Adora in her life without hurting herself.

The feelings of inadequacy would kick in as soon as she saw Adora with anyone else - a reminder that if she couldn't be enough for the person she loved the most, then she wouldn't be enough for _anyone_ \- followed by such a terrible rush of self-hatred that Catra had to direct it towards Adora instead out of pure self-preservation.

She had been careful to build her own bubble, separate from Adora. She was her own person, with her own friends, her own family, her own kingdom. Loving and being loved, that's what it was supposed to be all about. That should've been _enough._

“Not avoiding me, are you?” 

Catra fought the urge to groan. Adora clearly hadn’t gotten the hint the first time, and had approached her to dance again. She realized the girl could be a bit thick, especially since she hadn’t been on Etheria in a while - but she just _had_ to keep making things more complicated for Catra. “Sorry, princess, looks like I’m a very busy woman tonight.”

Which was partly true. Catra hadn’t wanted to deal with Adora, yes; but she’d also promised Scorpia a dance, and then random guests she didn’t want to let down, and then was invited to a discussion about Half Moon safety measures and possible political alliances by some of the princesses there. She prided herself on it, too. She could survive just fine without Adora, and now Adora was seeing it too.

But Adora just resumed the dance like Catra hadn't spoken at all. “I’m sure you could make time for an old friend.”

“We’re not friends.”

Adora hummed under her breath and slid her arm down Catra’s back, resting at her waist. “Well, whose fault is that?"

"I didn't say it was anyone's fault. Things just changed."

Adora didn't seem to like that reply very much. In fact, her grip on Catra tightened imperceptibly as she pulled their chests together. Catra could feel her breathing. “It’s good to see you.”

Catra noted that she didn’t say _I missed you_. Adora was always going around telling everyone how much she missed them, whether it was true or not, making everybody feel more important than they actually were. But not this time. The alternative she’d chosen was just as cliché, with none of the emotional openness. “Yeah, I bet,” she settled on, because like _hell_ was she going to reciprocate when she could just lean on sarcasm and come out on top. “So what kind of dump is Eternia, anyway? You look awful.”

“Oh, you’d love it, Catra,” Adora brightened up, too used to Catra’s deflecting to fall for it, leading Catra backwards. "It's so different from Etheria. So beautiful. You haven't truly lived until you've seen the meteor shower during Emerald season. That's when the sky is gold during the day and green at night - and sometimes stars fall, and you're supposed to wish upon them, it's apparently an old Earth tradition -"

Catra could barely pay attention. It wasn't that Adora was rambling, or that she wasn't interested - although she sure did try to pretend otherwise. It was the way Adora's body molded to hers, the way her hands occasionally brushed her lower back, how she carefully guided her into a turn or a spin, how Catra met her demands without question.

Adora had never had two left feet or anything like that, but her best feat had always been her strength, rather than her agility. While she still looked like she trained everyday - Catra had to dig her nails in Adora's shoulders to keep them from sliding down her arms and pass it off as an accident - she also seemed to move more surely. She hadn't been _watching_ her dance with other girls on purpose, but at some point through one of her conveniently timed work discussions, she _had_ taken a glance at the dance floor and seen Adora with Glimmer.

Even though she knew there was nothing going on there, the thought of them together had been enough to make her skin crawl for years, and the sight of them now was no different. It was the familiar way they interacted, the easy way Glimmer touched her without every brush of fingers being fraught with tension. And there were the other princesses, too, some of them getting a little ahead of themselves - Catra really thought she'd have to pry Perfuma off Adora after the third lift - and yet Adora was choosing to dance with _Catra_ now. 

_What do you want, Catra?_

She wanted to be happy. For all intents and purposes, she should’ve been. She had the support system she needed to survive anything life threw at her - even if it never brought her and Adora back together. But happiness wasn't really a thing to _want_ , was it? That would imply it was also a thing you got once and for all, when actually it was a lot more like rain, ever elusive but ever returning. It was no use trying to catch it in your hands, but you'd feel it drizzle all over your face every once in a while and spend your life trying to recreate that experience. That was all that wanting was: a smokescreen for the real thing.

And all her life, Catra had _wanted_ Adora. Wanted to be with her all the time; wanted to touch her; wanted to climb into her veins and make a home in her pulse and be one with her. That had been _a lot_ for a kid to process: what had registered as a pleasant kind of pressure at first had only grown more unbearable with time, and stayed with her now as a gaping ache.

She’d thought it was a weakness, the way she reacted to Adora; she saw now that it was just a consequence of her longing for happiness. Maybe her system just hadn’t gotten used to getting it from other sources yet. Maybe if she just acted on her desire, the pressure would go away. Maybe just once would satisfy her, and she could finally go on with her life.

The realization froze her on the spot, rather than push her into action. Of course, Adora noticed when Catra’s hands went still, and her laugh sounded sincere for the first time that night. “You aren’t listening to a word I say, are you?”

She squeezed Catra’s hands again to bring her attention back to her - as if she _needed_ to, as if she was ever out of Catra’s mind - and Catra responded, squeezing back. 

“No, I am. I just got a little lost there.” She frowned, trying to remember the last thing Adora had been talking about. She vaguely recalled a comment about a public hearing. “What were you saying about the Eternian court?”

Adora beamed, clearly pleased with Catra keeping up with her. That was the first step, right? To please her. “They seemed nice at first. They’d be incredibly sweet and helpful to me when they needed something, and they convinced me I could trust them. But the moment I disagreed or did something wrong, there they’d be, conspiring behind my back. I should’ve expected that, I guess. But it seems I never learn.”

Catra smirked, giving Adora a twirl. Once it was done, she didn’t try to pull her back - Adora stepped forward on her own. “Court intrigues. _Nice_. Did they try to overthrow you? Poison you? Did the people rise in rebellion against you?”

“I think you’re spending too much time with Double Trouble.”

“Hey, it’s not everyday that people see you as less than perfect. I’ve lived in a hole in the ground for the last year, this is all the entertainment I’ve got.”

Adora stayed quiet for a long time. Catra didn’t particularly care about it, but she did find the silence awkward, so she was about to ask if Adora was okay, if she’d gotten offended, somehow - before Adora finally spoke. “I never asked for it, you know. People treating me like I was perfect.”

“No. You always just _were_. You didn’t have to do anything.”

“You’re wrong,” Adora said, a little too forcefully. Even her movements turned erratic, her feet missing a couple beats. Catra’s eyes jumped up to hers. “And _you_ clearly didn’t think I was perfect.”

Catra huffed. “You want me to be sorry?” _Don’t be cruel,_ some part of her begged, but the other part of her, the part that held all the anger, said instead _This is what she left you for._

“No,” Adora surprisingly replied, quietly but steadfastly. “I liked that about you - that you saw me. You saw me enough to hate me."

"Well, I hear there’s a line for that now." She didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it was always like this, with Adora. Love her or hate her, you could never hold her attention for too long. Everyone wanted a piece of her, and Adora was always willing to comply; Catra wondered now, as she looked upon Adora’s tired lines, how much was actually left of her.

“It was different with you. I trusted you not to hurt me.”

"Guess your trust was misplaced."

Adora paused for a second, humming softly to the music. Her lips hovered right over Catra’s cheek, where her breath hit. “Do you still? Hate me?”

Had the circumstances been different, Catra probably wouldn’t have thought much of it. It was just a simple, if naive, question. But since Adora had gotten uncomfortably close by now, Catra scrambled for a way to regain the upper hand in the conversation. 

She gripped Adora’s wrist tight, stopping her in her tracks - and without even needing to push her away, there it was, the feeling of control, of turning the power that Adora held against Catra against Adora, instead. It must’ve been the little hitch in Adora’s breath. It must’ve been the way Adora’s pulse sped up under her fingers. 

“More than you know,” she murmured. She wanted to add more about why that was, how whatever affection she still felt for Adora was so inextricably tied to her resentment that it was impossible to untangle them. How she felt that she had to be the one to look Adora in the eyes and watch the life be drained from her, and yet how Catra would let herself die on the spot if that ever happened. How it always seemed to come down to this, in the end - a desire for self-destruction. But she didn’t.

Catra felt Adora smirk against her skin. "That’s okay. I’ll let you hold the knife, if you promise not to strike.”

She hadn’t realized they’d slowly come to a stop until people started bumping into them. The music was also slowing down, true - but she could barely hear it over the rush of blood in her ears. Her tongue was tied for entirely different reasons than the prospect of being able to hold a knife to Adora’s throat - namely, Adora’s closeness, Adora’s low voice, Adora’s hand running up her side -

“No promises,” Catra breathed out, “I’m sick of them.”

Adora didn’t make a sound, but her hand reached out for Catra’s, and when she had it, she didn’t just hold it - she traced every finger slowly, painstakingly, and the space in between, too, and it felt like she would never reach the tip of her pinkie, like she’d keep torturing Catra like this forever - and then Catra eyed Bow and Glimmer on the other side of the room, staring at them, and moved even closer to Adora, just because she knew it would piss them off.

“Your friends are watching,” she murmured, making sure Adora felt every touch of her lips as she spoke. Sure enough, Adora did freeze under her, but whether that was due to Catra or the news itself, Catra couldn’t say. “I really don’t want to give them a show.”

Adora nodded again, but she resumed her ministrations. “What do you want, Catra?”

A thrill passed through her. She could take the out and push Adora off of her, or -

“Come with me.”

For the first time, Adora did.

Pulling on her hand, she led her through the chaos of dancing people, through the ballroom and the door and the corridor. It was scary, how much Catra felt in control of herself, of what was happening. That kind of power - not the cheap power she was given in the Horde as Force Commander, but the power that felt a lot like just _freedom_ \- she'd never felt anything like it. 

They turned a corner and, figuring they were far enough away, Catra stopped and pulled Adora up against her, backing her against the nearest wall. The hallway was in complete darkness, until the moonlight from a window coming in, and she was pretty sure that Adora couldn't see much at all. Still, her eyes never left Catra's, not for one second - her pretty mouth opening on tense breaths, her chest rising and falling.

Something caught in Catra's throat - something she choked down before she could give voice to it, before she could embarrass herself. "Look at you.”

Adora was playing with the tips of Catra's hair, clenching her fists at the nape. She didn't break eye contact. "What about me?"

"You're under my thumb," came out of Catra’s mouth, while her head was a litany of _You’re beautiful I want to have you I’m going to have you-_

"Am I, though?" Adora’s grip suddenly tightened as she tipped Catra's head backwards. "You seem pretty eager, Catra. How long have you been thinking about this?"

“What, getting you to finally shut up? Been a lifelong dream of mine.”

“You like me,” Adora smiled. Not in a scornful way, no - in a way so carefree that almost broke the gravity of the moment. She said _almost_ because Adora's breath still hitched halfway through, but the way she laughed - the way she was suddenly reminded of _her_ Adora, except she was now pulling at Catra’s hair -

It was on pure impulse that Catra leaned forward and pressed her lips to Adora’s skin - the spot between neck and collarbone, which was eye level with her. She’d gone in with the intention to tease, steal a quick peck to gain back control and then pull back, but then Adora _sighed_ and she wanted to hear it again. And again. And _again_. “Arrogance is not a good look on you, Adora.” She mouthed lightly up the curve of her neck and beyond - not quite kissing, so much as letting her presence be felt. "But I’ll make do."

Adora arched into Catra’s touch, her throat now fully exposed - Catra’s nails raking possessively down the tender skin she was offered. She was reaching dangerous territory now. Soon enough, she’d be hovering over Adora’s lips. Soon enough their noses would brush and Catra would have to know when to go in - when to drink from her - when to drown. She stayed there for a while, taking her in, waiting for anyone to come out from the ballroom and stop her from doing this, but no one did and Adora was -

"Catra," Adora whispered her name in the dark, and there was excitement in her voice, yes, but also a drop of fear. "You said you wouldn't break me."

Carta looked down at where her nails were gripping too hard, already leaving marks on Adora’s neck.

Maybe Catra once would have rejoiced in Adora looking afraid of her. Maybe Catra once would have reminded that she'd actually made no promises, and proceeded to slash her throat and put an end to both of their miseries _._ She didn't now. She wiped the first droplets of blood that were welling up with her thumb instead, rubbing the same spot over and over in way of an apology. "I'm not gonna break you," she vowed, clawed fingers resting easy now. "I'm gonna kiss you. Like this."

An unmistakable intake of breath on Adora’s part, and Catra brought Adora’s lips to hers.

Because here was the thing: despite her insistence otherwise, despite a life lived in order to prove everyone who thought this about her wrong, Catra was _weak_. She loved things and people way too much, and cried when they were taken away. She pretended she didn’t care, only to melt at the first sign of affection. And Adora, _God_ , she was weakest for Adora. Nothing anyone else could do or say to her affected her the same way, and when Adora started responding, warm mouth engulfing hers, Catra drew away. Adora's touch _burned_ ; it made her feel too large for her own skin, like she could just crawl out of it and be all the better for it. 

Adora seemed mortified. Catra had barely kissed her, and yet - or maybe, for that exact reason - she already looked so _wrecked_. It was distracting. "I-I'm sorry. I've never done this before. Was that so bad?" 

Catra raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what?"

"Am I a bad kisser? I can just let you handle it, if you want. What you were doing was really nice."

What Catra had been doing was brush her lips against Adora's, softly and fearfully. She didn't have much experience, either. "No, I mean - have you really never kissed anyone?"

Adora seemed surprised. "Have you?"

Her own embarrassment battled with a stronger, more overwhelming feeling of possessiveness. Adora had never kissed anyone but her. For the rest of her life, when Adora thought about her first kiss or she was asked about it, _this moment_ was what would come to mind. Power thrummed beneath her fingertips as she traced the lines of Adora's face again. "No," she whispered, enjoying Adora's gaze on her. "No. It's just you." _It's_ always _been just you._

Adora had carved a permanent place for herself in Catra's mind when Catra had been too young to defend herself against it - and then she'd left and left her empty inside. It was only fair for Catra to do the same now.

She dived back in eagerly, pushing Adora far back into the wall, and didn’t pull away until Adora started gasping for breath, and the music in the ballroom stopped and the first people started flowing out. 

  


Glimmer didn’t touch her like Catra.

They were extremely similar in everything else - their feistiness, their devotion to the things and the people they loved, the need to prove themselves - but Glimmer’s touch was casual and unrushed where Catra’s, whether sweet or rough, was always filled with intent. Glimmer wiped Adora’s make-up off, their knees touching on the same Bright Moon bed, and it was easy enough and pleasant, but a hunger had started deep inside her that Glimmer couldn’t sate - that she probably had no idea even existed within her - and if Adora trembled everytime Glimmer’s fingers came too close to the marks on her neck, it was only because Adora imagined claws making contact with her skin instead. 

Glimmer observed her carefully, flinching when she did. “What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”

“No.” It sounded more like a question than an actual answer. “It just burns a little.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll be gentler.” She resumed dabbing, but more slowly. “Sorry I don’t have more specific wipes. I didn’t even know you wore make-up now.”

“I don’t,” Adora confirmed. “The royal tailors made me. They said their hard work couldn’t be wasted on someone who didn’t even bother looking good.”

Glimmer scoffed. “You’re a princess. Don’t let them speak to you like that.” 

Adora waved Glimmer’s hand away, tiredness suddenly seeping in and dragging her back onto the mattress. She could’ve had her old room back for the night, if she’d wanted to, and she would definitely ask if her stay ended up being longer than planned, but right now, she didn’t mind sleeping with Glimmer. She’d never liked sleeping alone, and she liked it even less now in her empty palace, so this was a nice change. It almost felt like old times again, except Bow wasn’t there. He’d just gone home after the party, and Glimmer hadn’t thought of inviting him to sleep over. “Apparently, they were appointed by my parents. Firing them would mean disrespecting their legacy, or something.”

“I didn’t say fire them, but you need to establish some boundaries, Adora.” Glimmer leant over her, quickly wiping at Adora’s mouth for the last of the lipstick to come off. Her friend smelled good, having just taken a shower, and her pajamas felt so soft and warm it made Adora melt into her bed, just wanting to go to sleep. “Hey, come on, I’m almost done.”

Adora groaned. “You know, at first I even thought it was kinda fun. But now? Doesn't matter how hot I look. I'm never doing it again."

Glimmer smirked, finally putting the wet wipes away. “If that makes you feel any better, though, you’ve really turned heads tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Her friends had fought for her attention all night, that was true, but she’d hardly call that “turning heads”.

“You haven’t noticed? Wait, of course you haven’t.” she sighed, dropping down next to Adora. “Some things really _don’t_ change.”

“I was _busy_ ,” Adora said, which wasn’t really a lie. Also, she'd never been good at reading feelings, either her own or those of others. 

She thought Glimmer would point it out to her again, that she'd suggest she needed to be less clueless, but instead she rolled her eyes and went "Yeah, with Catra. What was _that_ about, anyway?" and that was a little more difficult to answer.

"Catching up with an old friend?" she attempted.

"You two haven't had one conversation that didn't result in attempted murder in two, maybe three years."

Adora turned her face into the pillow, muffling a groan, because that was a fair point. A normal conversation with Catra was really all she wanted, but Catra had let her speak all the while, intervening only for a sarcastic jab here and there, while volunteering nothing about her own life. And then Catra had just kissed her, _a lot_ , and neither of them had been able to get any words in.

"That doesn't matter. We may not be friends anymore, but I still care about her happiness, more than-” _Anything_ wasn’t right. She clearly hadn’t cared about her happiness the most when she’d left her behind, or when she’d looked past Shadow Weaver’s mistreatment, or just been a terrible friend all around who never knew when to shut up and when to speak up. And now here she was again, using Catra to feel better about herself. 

It’s not like she didn’t know what a kiss meant, how it could complicate things - but when the moment had come, she’d _wanted_ to be kissed. Being close to Catra again, physically if not emotionally, had made her feel more like herself than she'd felt since - well, since she’d lost her powers.

Perhaps Catra had a point not wanting anything to do with her. “More than I realized.”

Glimmer’s eyes softened in the dim light. “There’s nothing wrong in still caring about her, Adora, as long as that’s all there is. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Adora said, deciding not to tell Glimmer about offering herself up to Catra’s scorn and judgment and resentment like a sacrificial lamb.

Glimmer thought in silence for a while. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say she’s okay now,” she mumbled eventually, “but she is so clearly trying.”

Adora smiled at that. Something fuzzy was starting in her heart - something warm. Pride, maybe. She closed her eyes and thought of Catra again, and the feeling grew almost to an ache. “I’m glad. I want that for her.”

“She’s trying,” Glimmer repeated, “and I don’t want that to be for nothing. I don’t want her to get hurt, either.”

Adora blinked, confused. “Are you saying that if she relapsed, it would be my fault?”

“I’m saying it could happen. You’ve always been her greatest weakness. You unravel her so easily.”

 _Unravel._ That was such a pretty word - it turned ugly in Glimmer’s mouth. To unmake, to strip something down to its bare essentials. _She unravels me too,_ she wanted to say, except Catra was not as strong as she pretended to be and for Adora to show up out of nowhere and follow Catra around all night while she was just trying to have a nice, quiet time now did sound so unnecessarily cruel, and made her ashamed of herself. When would she learn, when would she stop being this naive little girl, clearly unqualified to take care of any of her friends, let alone an entire planet?

Glimmer, however, must’ve seen Adora already berating herself. Unlike her, Glimmer always saw, and responded accordingly. “Maybe it’s better for some things to be left alone. Friends grow apart. That’s part of life.”

And yes, she heard that a lot. Catra was evil; she'd changed while Adora wasn't looking or maybe right under her eyes, and she was just supposed to accept it. Even when they were in the Horde, it was no secret that Shadow Weaver hoped Adora would one day come to her senses and leave Catra behind, and if Adora hadn't already done her job for her, Shadow Weaver would no doubt have tried to drive the wedge between them herself. But it made Adora wonder if any bond could stand the trials of time, if closeness was any guarantee of survival. So she asked Glimmer. "Is that what happened with you and Bow?" 

Adora didn't notice a lot, but she could tell Glimmer didn't expect that question, because her close proximity made it impossible not to feel her muscles freeze. The surprise didn't show on her face, but her reply was cautious. “Quite the opposite. Bow and I… we were together for a while.” 

She gauged Adora’s reaction, although Adora had no clue what she was hoping to find. She was having trouble processing that last bit of information. “Together, like-”

“Dating. In a relationship. You get the idea.”

And she was having trouble because it was absolutely the last thing she would expect, and also somehow… not. She'd never _thought_ of Bow and Glimmer together, but now that Glimmer brought it up, it made perfect sense. It glared at her from afar, scorning her for having missed it. It was digging yet another hole for her heart to be swallowed by. "But when - no, forget it. How did I not know about this?"

Glimmer grabbed her wrist to keep it still; she hadn't even realized she was waving her hands around like a maniac. "I swear we weren't trying to cut you out or anything, Adora. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while and then we'd tell everyone, but - well, that time never came. We broke up three months after."

And hell, she didn't want to be nosy, but her best friends had hidden a significant part of their lives from her, and now it carried over into their trio interactions. If things were going to be awkward between them from now on, if she had to get used to this too, now, to ties being cut, to secrets being kept, then at least she had a right to know _why._

"Is it…" Adora hesitated. "Is it okay if I ask you what happened?"

Glimmer looked like she could use talking about it, as well. Adora wondered if she'd told anyone else at all. She could've deflected the first question, or simply lied, but she hadn't; she'd come clean right away. Adora had given her another out right now, but she didn't take that, either.

"It felt so good, at first. Like that's how it was always meant to be. Have you ever felt like that, Adora?"

She shrugged. "I've never been with anyone. You know that."

"No, but that doesn't matter, it's - a kind of understanding. It dawns on you at the most random times. You could be hanging out with someone you've known your whole life, and then it just _hits_ you, and your world tilts slightly to the side, and things… just make sense."

Adora had _also_ heard that a lot - that everything would eventually make sense. She’d gotten some answers, eventually - about the Horde, about the Heart of Etheria - but they had never just come to her, never surprised her by popping into her head one day. All the knowledge Adora had, she had to fight for, had to demand.

And then there were things that she would _never_ be able to explain, like why Catra had turned her back on her, what had made her hate Adora so much. Their world had always been a hopeless mess that no one had bothered to explain to them, but the day Adora had found Catra was also the day she’d started feeling less lost. As kids, she’d been the _only_ thing that made sense. 

Adora felt herself teetering on the edge of a realization, but one bound with thorns, that came with a red warning sign. So she pushed it down in some hidden drawer of her conscious, where it found good company. Everything Adora was unwilling or unable to deal with, she’d learnt to dispose of. "I haven't," she confirmed.

Glimmer stared at her for a while, unconvinced, like she expected her to add a _but_ in there. But she didn't. “Well, that’s what it was like, for me. And it was just… a lot. It was too much. My queenly duties were entirely forgotten. I was no longer interested in the world I was supposed to be ruling, but in the world I was discovering. I had to break things off. I knew if I told him the real reason, he’d try to work things out, try to find a way to keep us together, because you know Bow, that’s how he is - and I’d let him. So I told him to stay away from me, that this was a mistake.”

“Glimmer.” Adora meant to sound more scolding than that, but the truth is, she felt for her. She couldn’t bring herself to show even the slightest disapproval when Glimmer was clearly hurting.

“If those feelings had stayed buried, if I hadn't acted on them, I wouldn't _know_. I'd be better off. Do you understand why I'm saying this, Adora? What I was trying to tell you before, about Catra?"

"What does _Catra_ have to do with you and Bow?"

"When I said I didn't want you to get hurt," Glimmer said, "this is what I meant."

_Oh._

Something inside her sparked to life again, kicking and screaming. _Hear me out,_ itbegged, _I've been trying to reach you._ Adora had to push that stubborn flicker of awareness down again. "Wait, you think I-"

"Adora, it's okay." Glimmer reached out to her, but Adora was suddenly feeling very overwhelmed, so she shook her off, though not unkindly. "I'm not going to pry or judge you. I just want what's best for you - _both_ of you, surprisingly."

"I don't have feelings for Catra."

"You wouldn't tell me if you did. You wouldn't even tell yourself. But I've seen the way you look at each other, Adora. Nothing can come of it right now. I don't want you to have to return to Eternia with a broken heart."

"Glimmer, I've _got_ it," Adora insisted. Glimmer was looking at her worriedly, but she was making a bigger deal out of it than it needed to be. Catra had always just been Catra to her. Nothing with Catra had ever felt weird, or too strong, or too much. No feeling had ever overcome her all at once to make her reevaluate her entire life. It had always been sure, and steady, and safe - even in its broken, unspoken parts.

Which had to stay unspoken for a reason.

She used to think there would be a time for her to let it all out - everything that hurt, that bothered her, that kept her up at night, and everything that made her profoundly happy, too. After she led the Horde to victory. After Etheria was free again, and the war was done. After no one needed She-Ra anymore. She’d been a fool; everyone would always need her. She wasn’t sure if she could survive otherwise.

"Don't worry," Adora whispered in the dim light, finally laying back down to sleep. "My heart will be fine.”

It gave one last beat before following Adora into sleep, slowing down to match her breathing, as if to save its strength. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra struggles with actions. Adora struggles with words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning that this chapter is a MESS. You'll see what I mean.  
> Also, fair warning that I'm upping the rating for implied sexual content and some suggestive language, just in case, but there's nothing explicit. I actually have no idea what rating this chapter would fall under, so let me know what you think about that.  
> Shout out to Becca (DeepBlueSkies) for helping me with this chapter, because writing it was an actual nightmare and something I'd never done before, so having a second opinion and someone to brainstorm with was key. Thank you so much :*

_Breaking the sword had been the beginning of the end._

_Etheria had been forced to make the ultimate sacrifice to prevent an already bad situation from getting worse, but with Queen Glimmer's plan backfiring, the planet had been pushed right into Horde Prime’s clutches. As a result, by the time of Horde Prime's arrival, their greatest asset - She-Ra - was gone, and a severely unstable amount of magic was still stored in the planet's core, waiting to be fired off at will. In light of a situation as hopeless as this one, many chose to retire from the fight to spend their last days with their loved ones or to tend to their kingdoms._

_But there were others who kept fighting._

  


It was two weeks after the party, and the Whispering Woods was ablaze with magic.

Apparently, it was tradition for princesses, especially those with elemental powers, to present their newborn babies to the woods to be blessed. Something about it always having been neutral ground, preserving the magic of the land through the centuries and through the wars. 

Adora was sitting on one of the many blankets spread out in the woods, Glimmer and Bow on either side of her. It was nice. It reminded her of them trying to sleep on the beach at Mystacor, and how miserably she’d failed at relaxing because no one had ever taught her how. Except it was slightly different, because Glimmer and Bow’s banter lacked its usual bite and there were _stars_ now.

They looked different on Etheria. The Eternian sky was packed full of stars, and their position in the sky changed every month. She’d long had a theory that Etheria's magic kept the planet still and floating into space while Eternia's moved it, but she’d never looked too much into it, lest anything she found disrupt her fantasies. It made sense, in a way. Every seasonal phenomenon - the comet shower, the lights, the eclipses - could be Eternia making its designated route through the galaxy. Maybe Eternia was travelling towards Etheria right now, coming to take her back, and she wouldn't even have to wait until the morning. 

Would that just be it then, for as long as she lived? Her friends down here, slowly growing apart, and her up there, going through the motions day by day?

Spinnerella and Netossa had done a really moving speech, recalling their fights against the Horde, the friendships made, the trials overcome together - all while taking great care not to draw attention to the Horde officer standing among them. Unfortunately, the days when Catra would pass under the radar were still far away, so that everyone’s eyes, at one point or another, eventually found their way to her anyway. In that, at least, Adora felt less alone.

She couldn't really see her now, in the dark and on the other side of the clearing, but a firefly occasionally flew by her, lighting up her face. She was leaning heavily on Scorpia, not too far from the middle of the crowd, and they were giggling stupidly, like they had drunk too much cider before the night had even started. Also, Catra was holding a baby - or rather - Spinnerella and Netossa were holding their baby in front of her, letting her play with it while Scorpia held Catra close to her chest, in what looked like both caution and subtle affection.

Adora told herself it was worry for the baby that pushed her up and forward towards where they stood. Catra had never particularly likedpublic displays of affection with anyone but Adora herself; if she was giving in to it now, she must not be in her right mind. 

But actually, she was. Adora noticed by the way Catra focused in on her right away, biting back a grin. "Hey, Adora."

"Adora!" Spinnerella whipped around, the baby bouncing disorientedly in her arms. "Adora, do you want to hold her?"

"Uhhh…" Adora's eyes flicked to her. As much as she loved kids, she was already picturing herself dropping the baby to the ground. "I better not, really."

"Come on, I'll help you," Spinnerella insisted, pushing it in her arms. The baby cooed. "See? She likes you."

Catra scoffed. Adora's attention was entirely on the baby now, but she imagined her rolling her eyes. "What a surprise."

"Don't worry, Catra," Netossa cut in, "between you and me, I think you're her favorite."

"You hear that, Adora?" This time, Adora saw her crystal clear, since Catra didn't allow her to ignore her anymore. Suddenly she was all up in her face, as close to her as it was possible to be without suffocating the baby. There was no alcohol on her breath, but still, Adora couldn’t be sure she _wasn't_ high on something. "I've finally got you beat at something."

"Adora, you're going to drop her," Spinnerella warned, taking back her daughter to adjust her position. "You've got to hold her head up, like this."

She looked at the baby struggling in her arms, then back to Catra, expecting to be overwhelmed. Catra's closeness, a fragile baby in her arms, the tangible reminder of what she could never have even if she'd wanted it, her imminent departure, and then the feeling that she should enjoy this all, as long as she had it.

She searched herself for a response to any of those inputs, but she came up empty. All her senses were dulled like she wasn't even there, and in their place was a general, pervasive unease.

She probably shouldn't be holding a baby when she got like this. She pushed it back in her mother's arms, smiling shyly like she didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. "She's so beautiful."

And that wasn't a lie; she really was. With Netossa's dark skin and Spinnerella's purple hair, it was already impossible not to love her. But right now, Adora couldn't stand to look at her or anyone else. 

Thankfully, before Netossa or Spinnerella could notice anything was wrong, Catra turned their attention elsewhere. "What powers will this baby have, anyway? What do wind and nets make? Kites?"

"Parachutes," Scorpia provided helpfully. Adora had almost forgotten she was there. "Hot air balloons. Either way, baby’s gonna fly."

"You really think so?" Netossa piped up. "She does really like it when she's high."

"Oh, God," Spinnerella groaned, "she's gonna be a nightmare growing up."

And they went right back to fussing over the princess, picturing everything she would do and the adventures she would live, all of it resting on the prospect of her developing special powers at all. Nobody was paying attention to Adora anymore - nobody except Catra, though she pretended otherwise. She always paid attention, to a mortifying, self-destructive degree.

Adora excused herself.

  


_Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon and Princess Catra of Half Moon, back then still known as Force Captain Catra, were in fact held hostage on Horde Prime’s ship and managed to set aside their differences to send a message out to the ground, where it was picked up by Queen Glimmer’s allies._

_The rescue mission would have been successful, had the two not been forced, under mind control, to give up secrets regarding the Heart of Etheria, including She-Ra's_ (the ink was smudged here; Adora could only assume they meant something like “concurrence”) _in the weapon's powering. Horde Prime was eager to employ it in his century-long conquest of the galaxy and, particularly, in his long-standing war with Eternia - the planet of the so-called "First Ones". As a result, Queen Glimmer was released as a show of good faith while the former She-Ra was captured and forced to comply with Horde Prime's requests, with Force Captain Catra also being kept as leverage._

_While a mixed group of Rebellion fighters and former Horde soldiers looked for an entrance to the planet's core, Horde Prime sent She-Ra with Force Captain Catra to fire off what was starting to look more and more like a ticking time bomb._

  


"Wow. You really don’t like kids,” Catra muttered against Adora’s lips as soon as Adora allowed her to breathe.

She hadn’t even flinched when Catra had approached. Catra had followed her in the woods at a safe distance, expecting to sneak up on her and play with her, maybe make her mad a little; but Adora had been standing with her back to a tree, just waiting for Catra to come into view to pull Catra’s body over her own. 

Catra wasn’t sure whether to count that as a win or not. She’d gotten what she wanted, for sure, but she’d have to find other ways to make it fun now. Adora was giving in to her faster and faster these days, and Catra - Catra was indulging her too much.

Adora just stared at her, mouth parted, eyes dark in the low light. They kept kissing in the shadows like the truth of it would have been unbearable otherwise. “What?”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone noticed,” Catra said. “It’s just - you only kiss me when you’re upset.” Which, from what little she saw of Adora, was very, very often.

Adora was silent for a second, as if questioning her own motivations. Then: “It’s not about the baby. I’m sorry, I’m just - I guess I’m just tired.”

Catra scoffed. “You’re unable to handle other people being happy without you, is what you are.” And yes, maybe, in trying to prove to Adora that she still saw her better than anyone else, she was oversimplifying Adora’s issues. She tried not to feel too bad about it; it wasn’t like Adora had always taken _hers_ seriously, and even now, she wasn’t exactly denying using her to feel better about herself, or - whatever it was she was doing.

Adora’s grip slackened, which was honestly a small price to pay for knowing she’d gotten under Adora’s skin. “Don’t act like you still know me.”

“Oh, Adora, but I _do_. I know all about you. That’s why you keep coming back, isn’t it?” She waited to see if Adora would push her away completely, but Adora just stared as she pressed closer. “I know that something happened back there that upset you, because you always need to feel like you fit into people’s lives.” She tested the waters carefully, drawing her claws back in before resting her fingers on Adora’s pulse point, where a days-old bruise was fading. Adora hissed at first contact, but soon went pliant under Catra’s hands, which spurred her to keep going. “I know you don't want to fit in mine, but you like it when I touch you like this."

"Catra-"

"You're starved, aren’t you?" Catra whispered, meaning to to rile _Adora_ up - _definitely_ not herself. But thinking about the effect she had on Adora, how she was the only one who could give her what she needed, to leave her wanting and breathless - "And I know how to turn you inside out." 

Trailing her hand down Adora’s arm, she forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. This was _Adora_. She’d grown up with her, fought with her several times over the last gray ration bar, slept at her feet every night for years. How did her closeness affect her so much?

"That doesn’t mean I _understand_ ,” she continued regardless, because this was about more than her; it was about Adora not feeling well, it was about - possibly providing Adora with someone to open up to. “But - I could try, if you wanted me to."

Adora’s starstruck look dwindled, clarity slowly setting in. Catra rubbed up her arm again, encouraging, observing as a blush rose to her cheeks. Catra fought the urge to kiss her there; it felt too tender. Too vulnerable.

"These woods are where it all started years ago,” Adora eventually said. “Do you remember?"

That had to be a rhetorical question. No one forgot the moment they started to lose their best friend. She remembered a stolen skiff, Adora holding on to her arm in fear - how she’d thought _I want to protect you_ back then _,_ how it had quickly turned into _I want you to have to be protected._ She remembered her falling. She remembered waking up that night to find Adora sneaking out of their bed - unbeknownst to her, never to come back.

"They called to me once, when they wanted me to find the sword. They led me to Bow and Glimmer, to the Crystal Castle - to my destiny." _Away from me,_ Catra mused."They used to speak to me, or - well, at least I used to _hear_ them. They're quiet now, and no one seems to know the difference.”

Catra shrugged. "I mean, you've saved the universe already, Adora. What else could they possibly need you for?"

She hadn’t meant to be brutal. Truly, she hadn’t. She had no desire to hurt Adora anymore. She wanted to _help_ Adora, which most of the time, she’d learned, involved hurting _herself_ instead. 

Thankfully, Adora didn’t look offended, nor any more upset than she already was. She just looked _lost_. “Yeah. That’s the question, isn’t it?”

  


_Extensive research brought Queen Glimmer and her allies to find an entrance to the forgotten underground kingdom of Half Moon that would allow them to reach the planet’s core. But before they could get there and prevent a galaxy-wide disaster, the sorceress Shadow Weaver, once known as Light Spinner, whose opinions had been disregarded at war meetings, decided to harness the magic at the Heart of Etheria, believing she could direct it against Prime's armies. Unfortunately, without She-Ra’s power kicking in and serving as a counterbalance, which the sorceress had been counting on, the Heart’s power proved too much for her to handle, and she was consumed by it in a matter of minutes._

_In trying to shield She-Ra from Shadow Weaver's surge of power, Force Captain Catra was badly wounded. With Horde Prime's armies now advancing and Queen Glimmer's armies still far away, She-Ra made one last desperate stand to reconnect to her powers._

  


Catra’s hand dropped to Adora’s chest, poking slightly where she felt her heart pounding. “Do you still feel it?” Adora stared at her blankly. “The magic. You can’t access it, but do you still feel it?” 

Adora didn’t really know how to answer. Logically, she’d lived with the powers of She-Ra all her life, but they hadn’t been unlocked until she’d found the sword; so now that the sword was gone, it stood to reason that they had just been buried deep inside her again. It drove her crazy, feeling the magic prodding at her without being able to reach for it back - and yet, it had to stay that way. She’d made a choice, when she’d broken the sword, to put the safety of everyone else before her personal feelings, and she wouldn’t go back on it now.

But sometimes, only sometimes, that simple thrum she felt evolved into a rush. Sometimes, Adora chased it. 

“It’s stronger when you’re near,” she confessed under her breath. “I don’t know why - maybe it remembers fighting you. But it reacts to you.”

Catra hummed, considering, and kissed her again. It was just a quick peck on the lips, which after all of Catra’s talk left Adora deeply unsatisfied, but she quickly made up for it by pressing wet kisses all over her neck. Wearing lipstick whenever they were scheduled to meet was only Catra's latest ploy to torture Adora: it forced her to choose between going back to her friends looking ravished or having to remove Catra’s make-up herself from where she’d smudged it all over Adora’s face. 

Only once had Adora walked back to her friends still covered in Catra’s lipstick, one night when they’d both been incredibly drunk and she’d made Adora too senseless to remember to rub it off - and she’d only gotten away with it because Glimmer had been drunk, as well. She’d spent the night crying about Bow having spent most of his time with Perfuma, and Adora had comforted her and hoped she’d ask no questions.

The rest of the time, she'd have to touch all the places Catra touched to clear her marks. She'd have to relive it all in her head. It was Catra's way to make sure she never forgot.

“Catra,” she warned now, wincing when she felt Catra bite down, “I'm spending the night at Bow's. Unlike Glimmer, he does _not_ get drunk."

"Sshh," Catra hushed her, kissing over that same spot right away. Her tail stroked gently down Adora's side, helping her relax. The outrage died on Adora’s lips as soon as it was voiced, and she fell silent. “Did you feel it at the Heart? When I was in danger?”

Adora froze in her tracks. They didn’t mention the Heart. They didn’t think about the Heart. She would have thought that was true of Catra, too. “Yes. But I couldn’t unlock it.”

She’d rehearsed that script a lot over the year. Believing otherwise, even for a second, meant falling down a rabbit hole she wasn’t prepared for. She hoped Catra wouldn’t push it.

“What about now?”

That was just a stupid question. Wherever Catra‘s fingertips touched, her magic flocked. “I’m- I’m getting there.”

“Okay,” Catra muttered into Adora’s skin, but two seconds later, when she felt Catra’s breath on her cheek, Adora was suddenly alert to the lips that hovered inches from her own. “Let me help.”

Adora often wondered what it was, about Catra, that kept pulling her back in. She’d thought it was their shared history, perhaps a childhood attachment she’d never fully let go of, but in truth, it was just this - that Catra had a way of laying Adora bare to herself. Her head was a mess most of the time, but Catra only had to pull on her thread to reveal all of her contradictions to be self-made and bring her true desires to light.

So Adora closed her eyes, baring her neck to the knife’s touch, and felt it. She couldn’t help but think of all the ancient spells, all the rituals that could’ve required a young woman to be lured into a magical forest at a time like this, when the stars were in the right position; except it had been Adora to draw Catra away from the party, Adora who clung to her desperately now, Adora who forgot herself while Catra took her apart.

She felt it - the breath on her skin, the night air, the distant chatter; all the magic a single body could hold floating around them, waiting to be grasped, and every being that held a particle of magic in themselves.

She felt Catra most of all, a clutter of pain and rage and something hot and burning that felt a lot like desperation, but lacked the same bite. Adora latched onto it - found it in herself, as well, quieter but insistent. Her power, maybe - it acted up when Catra touched her - but it could have been something else, too. She just couldn't put her finger on it before Catra pulled away and it slipped out of reach. 

Adora’s mouth closed around Catra’s name a few more times before falling victim to silence. Adora _wanted_ to speak - something was clawing at her throat, begging to be voiced - but Catra had pushed Adora to the edge of a realization and pulled her back before Adora could find words to describe what she’d glimpsed below.

Did Catra know what Adora had felt? Was that why she refused to meet her eyes - because she’d done more than Adora had asked of her, unlocked more than just her magic, and thought it wise to reel it back before either of them took it too far?

And if so - why was that fear nowhere to be found in Adora herself?

Catra's hand rested on her heart, like she was still trying to draw power out of her. When she finally raised her head, to Adora’s surprise, she spoke in a low rasp. “Was _that_ what you wanted?” she said, which to Adora sounded more like _Was that_ all _you wanted?_

And maybe that was the scary part _,_ Adora reflected later, watching Catra go back to the others: that for all of her talks about how dangerous it would be to reconnect with her powers, for all that a nagging, horrible suspicion was starting to grow in her mind, Adora looked at Catra and she was no longer sure.

  


_Unfortunately, the attempt failed, and the Heart was rendered unstable due to the sorceress’s tampering. Only the arrival of the first Rebellion soldiers prevented a planet-wide disaster: both She-Ra and Force Captain Catra were knocked out due to the multiple injuries sustained, and the Heart, having already destroyed Half Moon, had then succeeded in opening up the planet’s core to the surface. Ironically enough, Horde Prime’s fleet was also affected by the Heart’s power, with his numbers decreasing drastically. Taking down Prime was a combined effort of figuring out how to permanently disable the Heart, battling Prime’s armies, and facing Prime himself._

The chapter continued by delving a little into her friends’ contributions, such as Entrapta’s plans to cut off the Heart’s source of power and a timetable recapping the war’s most interesting developments - including the final peace talks. 

Adora closed the book, frowning. Most of what was publically known about the end of the war had been faithfully recorded, but what had happened in the time between Adora passing out and reinforcements arriving had been her own guess: the last thing she remembered was the Heart going off, so when she'd woken up to her strength depleted and the planet's core devastated, she'd drawn her own conclusions that the Heart had to be responsible for that, as well. No one but Catra had been at the Heart with her, and since Catra had never contradicted Adora’s official version - what with her having been twitching and in pain for the whole time - no one had had any reason to question it.

Adora was questioning it now. If there was anything tonight had taught her, it was that her powers being gone or irretrievable had been nothing but a fancy of hers. She’d never felt them as strongly as when Catra had touched her, _except_ for when she’d seen her fall at the Heart. She’d thought then that she’d failed at unlocking them, when actually there was a very real chance now that she’d just failed at keeping them under control.

“Adora?” Bow’s voice came from around the corner, his steps muffled by his slippers. He looked all ready for bed, wearing soft pajamas and a robe wrapped around him. It got really cold in the Whispering Woods at night. “Are you still up?”

She’d barely noticed how late it was, or that the fire was slowly dying down. She stoked it again, clutching her blanket closer, sinking deeper and deeper into the armchair. “Yeah, sorry. I was just reading.”

“Hey, no problem,” Bow beamed. “It’s nice to see someone appreciate what my dads do.”

"Well, they deserve it," Adora said, sinking deeper into the armchair to get comfortable. "They've been hard at work since the war ended.”

"Yeah," Bow nodded. "Having lived in a pocket dimension for thousands of years gives you a lot to catch up on.”

"The universe is so wide," Adora observed, feeling an urge to look out the window. As always, she felt called to the stars. Not to Eternia, specifically, or any other planet - just the stars. The idea of being out, out and away. Of floating. Of eventually dissolving, so that her essence could reach the farthest corners of the universe, live there while she was gone. She imagined it would be peaceful. Her heart longed for it in ways she couldn't explain. "And rich. I don’t even know where to start."

"There’s so much new history to be recorded, and art, and literature - I hope more people will join us soon. No one really stops by anymore, and if I have to hear my parents argue _one_ more time about the Vase of Erelandia-”

Adora had never really known where Bow lived when he wasn't in Bright Moon or in his parents' home, pretending to be on a break from the Academy. She knew he'd lived in Bright Moon since soon after the war, to oversee peace talks and repairs, but he'd eventually moved out and back with his parents after his fallout with Glimmer. She understood it better now, how something between them had broken that not even a ten-year foundation could fix, but it hurt all the same.

"I'm sorry," Adora murmured, "about you and Glimmer."

Bow tensed up. "Yeah, well." He fidgeted with the belt of his robe for a while,his embarrassment quickly replaced by blankness. "Me too. And I'm sorry for _you_ too, because you came all this way, and you were probably hoping we could all be together again, and instead there's always this - weird tension between us."

Adora had seen Bow looking like this only once in her life, when she and Glimmer had been fighting and Bow's efforts to have them reconcile amounted to nothing. That had been the first time he'd doubted the power of friendship, or rather, other people's willingness to invest into it as much as he did. It had been the thing to send him over the edge in Beast Island, and it was clearly bothering him again now. Adora had witnessed Bow constantly trying to make peace with Glimmer and act normally, and Glimmer kept pulling away from him to cry about it in private. From his point of view, it made sense for him to believe that he was the only one trying to repair their friendship, when actually…

"Glimmer just needs time, you know.” Maybe a lot of time, yes - but they’d gone through worse and come out all the stronger for it. Adora recalled their fight before Beast Island, and how both Bow and Adora forgot all the reasons they were mad at Glimmer when they saw her in danger. How eventually those reasons came back to them, but how the love they felt for her encouraged them to work past it. How natural it had felt when they’d been with each other again, like friendship had been ingrained into them from the start. “Things will be back to normal soon enough.”

That gave Bow pause - which worried Adora. She wanted - no, _needed_ him to believe that _some_ friendships didn’t get tangled in the fabric of time. That not all of them, but some, were never too broken to be repaired. Because if Bow of all people doubted it, then what hope did Adora have that her friendships here would last, that she wouldn’t just look at her life on Eternia one day and realize she was truly alone? That she and Catra could fix what went wrong between them, eventually, when they stopped _kissing_ and making things more complicated than they already were?

Bow couldn’t give up on Glimmer yet. Adora was just about to tell him that, but Bow spoke first: “I don’t… want things to go back to normal, though?”

Adora stared, confused and slightly heartbroken. “You don’t want to be Glimmer’s friend anymore?”

“No, Adora,” Bow sighed and rubbed his forehead, which was his way of calling her a dumbass. Adora couldn’t exactly _help_ having grown up sheltered, thank you very much. "Of course I want us to be friends. But I don't want to act like nothing ever happened between us. I don't regret it."

"Even if it cost you your best friend?"

Bow shook his head and made a move to sit in the armchair next to Adora. It felt heavy, suddenly - recognizing that whatever he was about to say was important enough for him to postpone sleep for a little while. "It didn't _cost_ me anything. We became something else, and it didn’t feel like I was losing anything because of it. On the contrary - it felt like more. Like I was suddenly _more_.”

“But it ruined things between you two,” Adora frowned.

Bow was somberly looking down at his knees. “Have you ever been in love, Adora?”

Something inside her snapped to attention. She didn’t know the answer to that question, but it was the question itself - what it awakened in her - that enthralled her. They hadn’t known about _love_ in the Horde, except in the sense of _liking something very much_ , and in the real world, though everyone was obsessed with it, no one had been able to explain it to her.

"I hear it has something of pain," she eventually said, thinking of Glimmer.

"No,” Bow replied, clearly thinking of himself instead. “No, it has nothing to do with it." 

Adora looked at the fire crackling for a little while. Bow never elaborated; he stared at the fire, too.

"Are you okay, Adora?" he mumbled all of a sudden, so softly she barely even heard him. "I don't think I've even asked. You're much quieter now."

Adora was almost taken aback by that revelation. In her head, she was screaming all the time, always conscious of her body being too awkward, of her taking up too much space - and yet none of that showed. She'd learned how to hide it well, and had to keep hiding it now. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I just want you to know," he continued, "that you can still count on me and Glimmer, even if we're dealing with stuff of our own. And not just here, either - whenever you need. Write a letter and we'll be there for you, okay?"

Adora threw her head back, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. The fire, maybe. "I'm fine," she repeated.

Bow sighed, starting to get up. "You probably imagined your last night different."

"Hey, no. I love being here and learning stuff I didn't know. In another universe, I'd like the idea of working here." Learning about what she couldn't experience first-hand, living through the pages of these books. Would she understand, then? Would she _know_? “Actually - would it be okay if I checked out some more books before going to bed?”

"Books about what?" Bow asked, yawning into his hand. He wouldn't be keeping her company for much longer.

Adora turned her head towards the immense library. The night might still be young, but it was gonna be _long_. "I’m thinking," she said carefully, "about love."

  


Bow was able to convince her that she couldn’t consume the entirety of human literature in one sitting, no matter how motivated she was. So he picked the next best thing for her, which apparently were selected works from all over the galaxy.

Adora started with a book of fairytales from Earth. She’d never visited it, but it was where her mother had been born. Relations between Earth and Eternia were tight thanks to her, and the queen had been an avid reader, stocking the royal library full of books from whatever near or far away civilization she had come into contact with. Adora saw herself in her a lot, though she'd never met her - that constant drive to know, to learn, to improve. Adora had been more than happy to donate some of those books to George and Lance and even order official translations when needed, if only because her mother wouldn't have hesitated to spread her knowledge across the universe.

One story in particular was about a princess born with magical powers, locked up in a tower by a witch who wanted to take advantage of her, and a handsome prince who, time and time again, scaled the walls of the tower to love and comfort her in secret. But when the witch found out, she cast them both into the desert - the princess lonely and desperate, searching for the only love she ever knew, and the prince blind, blood and tears clouding his vision day and night.

  


_There was something seriously wrong with Adora, and Shadow Weaver was always telling everyone. She had the best doctors in the Horde looking after her, the finest uniforms made for her, and gray ration bars - they were much better than the brown kind - reserved for her at every meal. Yet the child was never happy. She put all of herself into training, as Shadow Weaver wanted, never spoke to any of the other cadets, and slipped straight into bed after dinner to do it all over again the next morning. Adora didn’t remember that time of her life - she was far too young - but Shadow Weaver had reminded her, sometimes, that the only reason she’d ever gotten better was because her guardian_ cared _, and if she thought Adora was disregarding her kindness and, by extension, her wishes for her in any way, she could take Adora’s happiness out from under her again._

_One day, when Shadow Weaver was on the verge of losing all hope, she presented Adora with one of the newest cadets, and that, Adora remembered. Adora could never forget. Since the two would share sleeping spaces, Shadow Weaver suggested, in a peremptory tone that made it sound more like an order, for them to get to know each other and be friends - a suggestion which, as it turned out, hadn’t been necessary at all, because the other girl tried to cuddle up to Adora right away, holding on to her like a lifeline. It took days, or maybe weeks, but eventually - Adora talked to her, and the first thing she asked her was her name, since Shadow Weaver had forgotten to introduce her._

_The girl didn’t know her name, either. No one had ever bothered to give her one - so Adora would._

_And she called her Catra._

  


She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until a knock jolted her awake. In her hurry to get up, the book she was reading slid from her lap onto the floor, face down. George and Lance would never let her live it down if she broke the spine of one of the oldest books written in First Ones language, whether they themselves understood it or not; and so she bent down to pick it up.

The knock came again. It didn't come from the front door, or from the hallway where any of the other rooms could be accessed. It came from the library window, soft but insistent. Adora advanced slowly, reaching for the sword on her back - and her hands came up empty.

The knocking got louder - actually, no, it just turned into scratching. Slow, deliberate scratching which hurt her ears. " _Adora_ ," a muffled voice grunted from outside.

"Oh, my _God_ ," Adora groaned, and rushed to unlatch the window. She threw it open, squinting in the darkness, eyes still glazed over from sleep. “ _What?_ ”

Catra blinked disorientedly on the other side, like she’d just been minding her business before Adora started screaming at her for no reason. “Let me in.”

Adora looked back to the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Adora, it’s _freezing_ out here.”

She huffed, but figured letting Catra in right away would spare her some time. God knows she would have been capable of knocking on Bow’s door next, or worse - his dads’. She grabbed Catra by the lapels of her suit - she owned one in _every_ shade of red, it seemed, and never matched the jacket with the correct pair of pants to piss Adora off specifically - and pulled her inside, letting her tumble to the floor. There was no need to worry about waking anyone up, because Catra was graceful in that, too.

“Well, _someone_ ’s groggy,” Catra rolled her eyes, wiping off specks of dust from her suit as she got up. 

Adora crossed her arms in front of her chest, suddenly reminded of being too exhausted to argue. “Why are you here?”

Catra made haste to compose herself, seriousness weighing down all her features. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Adora felt she was in danger, somehow, whatever she replied. “Catra, you _knew_ I was leaving.”

“And I have to find out from _Scorpia_.”

“What? We said goodbye earlier.”

"You were saying a lotof things earlier, Adora, and none of them was _goodbye_."

Adora thought back to their rendez-vous in the woods. Catra _had_ to have known she was leaving in the morning, right? Adora had never told her, but she'd figured she knew. When she'd told Catra goodnight, after a few more failed attempts at drawing out her powers - Catra engulfing her and overwhelming her and emptying her out - it had looked to her like Catra understood the weight of the situation.

"Don't worry, though," Catra walked past her, jumping up on one of the tables. "I'm not here to demand a proper send-off or anything. Actually, I'm here to give you a little parting gift."

"A gift," Adora repeated, more and more confused by the second. The late hour didn't help.

"I think I know how to bring back She-Ra," she said. Her hands were trembling, either because of the cold or out of nervousness, so she caught Adora's and busied herself playing with them, as if working herself up for a challenge. "I'm gonna try to lure her out, but you need to trust me, okay?"

Adora had trusted Catra with several things in the past, and almost every time, Catra had defied those expectations, and not always in a good way. After tonight, trusting her _not_ to awaken powers that should’ve stayed dormant sounded like indulging a death wish, and though Catra had broken down most of her walls, Adora wasn’t _nearly_ there yet. “I can’t.”

“Give me some credit. I did help before, didn’t I?”

“No, I mean -” She had to rip the words out of her own mouth, more of a reminder to herself than an explanation for Catra’s sake. “I almost set off a weapon of mass destruction _twice_. I’m not risking it again.”

“What would you be risking? The Heart has been deactivated,” Catra pointed out. Adora tried to take her hands back, but Catra held on to them. Her eyes burned into Adora’s, and though she tried, she found she couldn’t look away when Catra bowed her head gently to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ve seen your magic, Adora. It's all but destructive.”

“But how can you tell? How can you know for sure-”

“Adora,” Catra held her gaze, “when Shadow Weaver used the Heart against me, that was a fatal wound she gave me. I didn’t recover easily.”

Adora didn’t want to remember. Flashes of Catra injured and bleeding on an infirmary bed came up anyway. “Yeah, of course. We had the best healers looking after you - you were in Bright Moon for weeks.”

“I wouldn’t have recovered at all,” she went on, “had it not been for _you_. You must’ve overworked yourself, because you passed out right afterwards, but -”

Adora heard the words without understanding them. Panic spiked in her chest, trying to keep her mind from wandering too far from her body. “What?”

"Here." Catra guided their joined hands to the hem of her own shirt. Adora gaped, watching as Catra slipped their hands under the light fabric, over her warm skin. She brought them up over her stomach, and up over her ribcage, then further up still - and stopped.

There was her heart, beating steadily. It didn’t pound erratically like Adora’s, which was the first thing she noticed. The second was a scar in the middle of Catra’s chest, which she traced with her thumb. Her finger tingled at the touch.

_A blast hitting Catra right in the chest. A feeling like burning._

When Adora still didn’t say anything, Catra squeezed her hand. “It almost stopped. Do you remember?”

Adora blinked the memories away. All she could tell her was the truth. “I can’t.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Catra whispered.

Adora had been right to think her powers had kicked in - but not to power the Heart and destroy. To _heal_. To save. Catra had been on the brink of death, and Adora had pulled her back. 

“Why didn’t you say anything before? To anyone?” 

That seemed to take Catra aback, but Adora paid it no mind. Her reply didn’t matter anyway, and neither did Adora’s question. The past year was still rearranging in her mind, and in the grand scheme of things, it was completely irrelevant. “I didn’t know for sure until a few hours ago. People in Bright Moon were surprised I’d survived with a wound like that. They kept asking me questions I had no answer to, so I just considered myself lucky. But your magic earlier - I felt it. I recognized it.”

“And you know how to bring back She-Ra?” Her head had just now caught up with the past few minutes. “Without the Sword?”

“If you’ll let me.”

She already knew she would. She’d let Catra do whatever she wanted to her. She was just buying time until she could accept it. “But what if that was an isolated incident, what if - what if I lose control?”

“Hey.” Catra’s hand left Adora’s under her shirt - Adora hadn’t even realized how tight she was holding on to it - leaving the fabric slightly askew, exposing part of her lower abdomen. Only Catra’s fingers dancing on her jaw, beating a steady rhythm, reminded her that there was currently more than that going on. “I won’t let you lose control for one second. I promise.”

Adora kept staring. "I thought you said you were sick of promises."

A look crossed Catra’s face too quickly for Adora to catch. With a pained sigh, she dropped her forehead to Adora’s, her breaths now messing up the stray hairs escaping her ponytail. "This will be my last one. I promise that, too."

She tilted Adora’s head up and Adora let herself be kissed, then. What had she ever gained from resisting Catra, anyway? What part of herself that was not yet broken was she trying to preserve?

“Trust me,” Catra kept muttering against her mouth, “trust me on this, and I won’t ask anything else of you, ever again.”

She wondered why Catra cared so much. She wondered if the reason why her power went haywire whenever she was near was because it recognized her, too, and not because it remembered fighting her. That time by the Heart, _fighting_ her had been the furthest thing from her mind; she’d wanted to _protect_ Catra, and because she’d overexerted herself, the rest of the world had almost paid the price. Was it really wise to take that risk again?

But Catra didn’t need her protection now. _Catra_ was the one who stood tall in front of her and offered her solace - whether she knew it or not. Adora would probably not even stay in Etheria for long enough to regret her decision. “What are you going to do?”

Catra blinked at her, considering, her gaze slowly trailing down to Adora’s pale, unblemished skin with pure, self-absorbed hunger. "I'm going to make you so obsessed with me you can't stand it." And she attacked Adora right there, her teeth digging in mercilessly, the burn soothed quickly by her tongue.

Adora's grip on her clenched, one of her hands nearly tearing out Catra's hair. "I'm already obsessed with you," she confessed, feeling no shame. She was too far gone. What did it matter if she admitted this, too, what did it matter -

Catra raised her head, curious, and Adora met her gaze head on. She wasn't afraid of Catra. She wasn't running from her anymore. "Yeah?"

“You know the effect you have on me.” But she mentally jotted down that Catra might need a reminder. Of what kind - she’d decide later. “You’ve used it to your advantage many times.”

"Still wasn't enough to make you stay, was it?"

Adora regretted bringing up the past now. This was neither the time nor place to have this conversation. She hated hurting Catra, and she hated that she still couldn’t help but justify it. " _Nothing_ would've been enough. Not even _you_ \- no matter how much I wanted you. Even back then."

"Want." Catra licked the word off Adora's lips, tasted it on her own tongue. "No, I imagine it wouldn't."

 _Don't ask more of me,_ Adora silently begged. _Wanting you is all I can allow._

"Don’t worry, Adora," Catra sighed. "I know you’ll put your destiny before everything else - even when that destiny has long been fulfilled. So I'm going to give it back to you, okay? It’s just that this time -” She punctuated that sentence with another, harsher kiss, “I’m not giving you an easy choice.”

Adora didn't know what happened to her then. Maybe it was Catra playing with the strap of her dress with no intention to pull it down; maybe it was Catra's use of the word _choice_ that got to her, because she had to know Adora had no true choice in the matter at all. Whatever the reason, her insides lurched forward, refusing to be contained. Every reserve Adora might've had, every doubt about the technicalities of what she was about to do - they were pummeled to dust the moment she saw Catra smirking, easily perched on the table like her closeness was of no consequence to Adora, like it didn't have a world-ending power on her.

"Shut _up,"_ she murmured, so low Catra had to twitch her ears at the sound. "I'm so sick of hearing you brag with nothing to show for it. I'm sick of it."

Catra’s eyes looked darker in the firelight, her blue eye looking almost black with the gold one reflecting the glint of the flames. "Adora, I need you _not_ to think."

"Trust me. I'm not."

And because Catra just stood with her mouth hanging open, her brow furrowed, Adora took that as an invitation to go on. "I love that stupid suit. I'm going to rip it off of you." And she proceeded to do just that, tired of how _slow_ Catra was being, of Catra showing up in the middle of the night to work her up and then refusing to do anything about it. Adora’s hands eagerly stroked up and down Catra’s skin again, paying close attention to her sensitive spots, and Catra’s breathless sighs of _Adora_ in her ears almost drowned out her next words - “I love how you say my name.” One of her hands inched lower over Catra’s waist and hips to settle on her thigh, trying to nudge her legs apart so Adora could step in between.

Without objection, Catra did it for her. They fell open and engulfed Adora like a flower beckoning a bee. Adora advanced on her, or maybe was pulled closer, but she felt it again, that hunger deep inside, and she just wanted it to be _quenched_. She wanted Catra to stop smirking. She wanted to push her down and take what she needed, if it was what Catra wanted, too. 

She fought every single one of those instincts to lay Catra down gently. She’d be soft with her; she would. She buried her face in the hollow of Catra’s neck, gathering herself, and breathed in. “I love that you still smell like me. Right here.”

Catra shuddered underneath her and clung tighter - all of her, limbs and tail and everything wrapped around Adora to keep her there. "You can't just - say that to me."

"I can tonight." She pressed a messy kiss on Catra's neck and felt the skin there burning. Something sparked inside of her too - something crackled. "Tonight, you’re going to let me.”

Whatever thoughts she could still conjure after that came in the form and shape somebody else had given them. Adora had read well into the night, and every legend across the universe had seemed to her like a retelling of the same underlying story, an attempt to grasp the same indefinite feeling.

The musician that wanted to bring his love back to life, and promised _I'm going to lead you out of the darkness, but I can't look back or you'll be lost forever._

 _(_ That story in particular seemed to have been one of Bow and Glimmer’s favorites. The pages were filled with handwritten notes and comments that Adora felt weren’t meant for her eyes. When Glimmer’s handwriting read _I think there’s a darkness inside me that only you know how to manage_ , Adora had slammed the book closed and cried.)

The Eternian sorceress who had to sacrifice the one she loved the most to prevent a war, leaving Adora to wonder not what it felt like to be under the knife, but what it felt like to pierce someone open.

The fire princess who lost her mind when she lost her dearest friend, and burned her kingdom to the ground. 

Adora was burning, too _._ There was no other way to put it. So was the fire in the chimney, consuming the last of the firewood, and soon the house would be as wrecked as Half Moon after the Heart. She fought to maintain control, but it was slipping, slipping from her and dripping all over the room.

_You're not ready yet you must let go_

_Adora you must let go_

"Let go, Adora." Catra clawed at her back weakly. "It's okay. I've got you."

She stared into Catra's eyes, fighting to stay open, and she felt suspended on the edge of that cliff again.

Adora jumped, and the fire dwindled to nothing.

  


Adora stared into the darkness. Catra felt her gaze on her, though she never looked over to check. She felt it running up her back, light as a feather; on the back of her head, piercing through her skull; on her shoulder, sometimes accompanied by a kiss.

She didn't expect Adora to still want to kiss her. She didn't expect Adora to be _needy_.

She'd been overly cuddly with her once upon a time, when they were young enough to still get away with it; but Catra hadn't shared her bed in years, and she'd thought Adora had outgrown that side of her by now.

Catra wasn't complaining. She'd had no one to hold her through the night for so long.

Adora's arms around her middle tightened when she felt Catra move, only to slacken again when she realized Catra was just turning on her side. She was going nowhere - she felt boneless, and weightless, and herself for the first time since Adora had left.

She had her night vision to thank if she could see her better than Adora saw her. Adora must've relied on touch alone until her eyes got used to the darkness - tracing the shape of her lips, of her collarbones, the indentations of her hips - but Catra could observe her closely. Her hair was down on her shoulders, longer than Catra remembered it, and some of it fell on Adora's face, but she paid no mind to it. No, she was smiling - stupidly, recklessly.

Catra brushed it away from her eyes for her, and Adora leaned into her hand right away, pressing a kiss right in the middle of the palm. "I like you better like this," she confessed under her breath.

Adora's eyelashes were longer than usual in the weak light. They’d moved to Adora’s room not too long after and hadn’t stopped to light a fire, but the morning moon wouldn't take long to rise. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Happy." Catra touched Adora's upturned lips like she could touch the extent of it. "It suits you."

Adora laughed softly, as if wanting to prove Catra right one more time. "So you _do_ like me."

"Sometimes." She shrugged, pretending nonchalance, but she pushed down a laugh of her own. She couldn't help how _good_ she felt. "I'm guessing that worked?"

Catra waited for her to get it, then watched her smile widen even more. "Yeah. Couldn't you feel it?"

"I definitely felt something there," Catra mumbled, earning herself a shove. Fifteen years of memories of Adora elbowing her in the face, of them pushing each other on the way to the locker room, of fighting because Catra kept hogging all the blankets, rose kicking and screaming to the surface. The last time they'd done this had been in a fake portal reality.

"I mean - God, Catra. I may not turn into an eight-foot tall lady anymore, but the feeling is still there. Like all this power is inside me, and it's connected to everything else."

"The First Ones won’t know what hit them," Catra cackled. "Watch them try to remove you now."

"It's so _weird_ hearing you call them that, you know. They just call themselves Eternians. And honestly," Adora sighed, "I kind of wish _one_ of their attempts had succeeded. Anyone wants to take my throne, they can go right ahead."

Catra's ears snapped to attention. Well, that didn't sound like Adora at all. "Are you _sure_ you're not Double Trouble?"

Adora scoffed in fake outrage. Well, Catra figured it was fake, at least, because their legs were still tangled together. "Is it really that hard to believe that I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone on a hostile planet?"

"Hey, you were the one who tried to convince us otherwise," Catra reasoned. She and Adora were so close; it was only their breaths under the covers, flowing in and out of each other's lungs. Despite what they had just done, _this_ seemed to Catra like the peak of intimacy. When she imagined having to slip away from that bed in a few hours, she felt cold all over. "You don't have to go back there if you hate it. I mean, you said it yourself - it's not like people aren't falling over themselves to replace you, anyway."

This time, the outrage seemed more real. Catra didn't fully understand what she'd said wrong, but she wished she could take it back, anyway. "Doesn't matter. It's not their responsibility. It's mine - I was born for this. Now that I have She-Ra's powers back-"

She never finished the sentence, probably expecting Catra to have a rebuttal ready before then; and when Catra didn't, she was left grasping for words.

Catra was confused. Adora talked of days spent in the throne room solving petty squabbles, of conflicts with her court, of a world outside her reach. The First Ones may have weaponized She-Ra to solve their intergalactic conflicts for them, but the war was over now, and what Adora might still need her powers for now was beyond her. What was worse, Adora didn’t seem to have a clue, either. She seemed convinced that Eternia needed _her_ and no one else like the fate of the universe still depended on it, but was unable to explain why that was.

Adora was obviously uncomfortable under Catra’s gaze, and felt the need to justify herself. "I'm allowed to be selfish sometimes, and - wish for things I can't have. Just not for too long."

Catra decided not to push for more, because Adora having an existential crisis was the last thing she wanted right now. Instead, she rolled closer to her and buried her face in Adora’s shoulder, feeling Adora’s arms come up around her right away. “Am I one of those things?”

Adora didn’t start, didn’t stumble over her words. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“Your answer.”

Catra tried to pull back to look at her, but Adora kept her there, landing another kiss on her head. Catra wasn’t sure she should allow Adora to be so affectionate with her - wasn’t sure she should get used to this so fast.

“Catra,” she spoke into her hair, breath brushing her ears, “my Catra. I want you to come with me.”

 _Come with me,_ Adora said in another life, holding her hand while Thaymor burned around them, _you don’t have to go back there, we can fix this;_ and in another life Catra pulled awayfrom her, disbelieving, and refused to give her what she wanted, because Adora had already taken too much from her anyway.

In this life, however, Catra took way too long just reeling from Adora calling her _hers_. Not in a possessive way - not trying to stake her claim on Catra, but giving her somewhere to belong. _Catra. My Catra._

It was one thing to convince herself she didn't need to let her happiness depend on one person only when that person was on another planet, with no way to be reached, and another thing entirely to reject that happiness when you had it in your hands.

Adora kept fondling her like a kitten, giving special attention to her ears. She rightfully took Catra's hesitation to mean she was _considering_ it, which made her relentless in both her cares and her words. "I want to take you to the Pink Cliffs," she murmured, "over the edge of the universe. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Adora-" It took all the self-respect she could muster to pull away from her in this life, too. "I can't."

Adora frowned, an uneasy smile making its way onto her face. "Hey, I don't mean - forever. But a little while."

"I can't," Catra repeated. "I'm needed here. There are things I have to make up for - I can't just up and leave because _you're_ asking."

That was a bit harsh, and she realized too late. It's not like Adora was forcing her to come with her, but to Catra, who'd worked hard to learn to live without Adora, this felt like a dare. It felt like Adora trying to tear down all her carefully constructed defenses, to mess up all of her plans - to reveal how much Catra was lying to herself. 

Adora was careful in her response, disentangling her legs from Catra's to hold them to her own chest. It broke Catra’s heart to think that Adora felt the need to protect herself - from her. "I didn't want that. I swear. I don’t even _know_ how things are going for you right now, because, well - you won’t tell me.”

Catra scoffed at her, because what she really wanted was to pour her heart out to her. Everything she’d been feeling since Adora had first left - everything she’d seen and experienced, all of her fears and hopes. “Sorry. Guess I felt I didn’t need to, since you were going to assume whatever you wanted anyway.”

“Don’t,” Adora said coldly. “Okay? Don’t do that. Not when we’re like this.”

Catra grunted, turning on her other side, facing away from Adora. She couldn’t handle looking at her right now - couldn’t handle facing her anger again, like a misguided child being scolded by their parent. _You’ve made your choice. Now live with it._

“We used to tell each other everything.” Adora’s voice sounded sadder then. “I tried opening up to you, and - well, if you don’t want to do the same, I respect that. But then don’t go blaming _me_ for not knowing what’s going on in your life. I may have been naive in the past, but I’m still not a mind reader.”

Catra kind of hoped her pillow would smother her. “Okay.”

A peculiar kind of silence fell over them for so long that Catra started to think Adora had fallen asleep. Even the fire had stopped crackling and eventually died down. Catra tried to imagine that - their last conversation before Adora left again for _God knows how long_ being a fight. It almost made her want to turn around and beg for her forgiveness - but then Adora spoke again, so softly that Catra could barely hear her, even in that deadly quiet. 

“I just wanted more time with you.”

Nope. No, no, no, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t just - lie there and take it without a word. She’d let Adora take anything, _everything_ from her, so long as she never had to hear her say something like that again. “I can’t.”

She felt a rustling of sheets, probably Adora settling down to sleep properly. “Alright. I just needed you to know.”

Catra took a deep breath and got ready to curse herself. “But maybe-”

“Yes?” Adora piped up behind her, gently nudging Catra’s shoulder to get her to lie on her back again. “What were you saying?”

Catra hesitated some more. Was she really about to do this? Was she going to give Adora _this_ , as well, like her life wasn’t already tied to Adora’s, like she didn’t already owe Adora her heartbeat and the breath in her lungs? She turned around to face her and winced. “It’s, ah, my birthday? In three months?”

Adora frowned, and Catra hated herself for how _cute_ she found it. “You don’t have a birthday.”

“I mean - everyone has one, I just don’t know when it is. But birthdays are important to these people, so the Magicats kind of decided we’d celebrate it on the same day as my coronation?”

“Oh.” Adora nodded. She’d missed Catra’s official coronation, of course, being long gone by then - not that Catra would have invited her, anyway. “Cool.”

“Yeah, so, um - you don’t have to, but if you wanted to know more about my life right now, I guess you could… come visit?”

Catra caught the split second when that suggestion registered in Adora’s eyes, and she absolutely _beamed_ above her. “Would that make you happy?”

Catra had never felt weaker than right now, never more exposed than this, and being vulnerable didn’t feel nearly as good as everyone kept telling her it was. Still, there was no going back. No more pretending. “Yes."

There was only hoping this _thing_ , whatever it was, didn’t kill her.

  


_Catra could remember only one time that Shadow Weaver had been truly nice to her._

_That day, Catra had done well on her training. On Adora’s suggestion, she’d shown up on time, fought fiercely without overshadowing anyone, said please and thank you and yes ma’am and yes sir. Catra knew now that nothing she would have ever done would’ve been enough for Shadow Weaver - that her treatment of Catra wasn’t justified by Catra’s shortcomings, or lack thereof. But back then, she’d wanted to impress her guardian so bad, and Shadow Weaver must’ve noticed. Just maybe, she had decided throwing her a bone would keep Catra satisfied for some time, keep her more in line, convince her this was how she got what she wanted. And so, for all of her troubles, Shadow Weaver gave Catra a new jacket._

_It was pink and ripped on the arms,_ to fit your style _, Shadow Weaver had said, and Catra had almost cried. Wearing anything other than a Horde uniform meant being slightly higher than anyone else in Shadow Weaver’s regard, and while Adora had already gotten a few modifications done to her outfit, Catra had long since given up hope for herself. Until now._

_Unfortunately, Catra had also left the jacket on her and Adora’s bed, and when Adora had come in, done with the day’s activities, Catra hadn’t had time to open her mouth before Adora threw herself on the bed, excitedly, and waved the jacket around victoriously, screaming: “Is this for me? Did Shadow Weaver leave it for me? Look at this, Catra, it’s so pretty!”_

_Adora liked the jacket. Adora was already trying it on to find it fit perfectly. Adora didn’t wait for Catra to explain that the jacket was actually hers, that it was the first ever token of Shadow Weaver’s affection and probably the last she would ever have, and to beg her if she could please, please let her have just this one thing._

_Catra didn’t say anything - because Adora liked the jacket, and Adora got everything she wanted. That was just the way things went._

_So she shrugged, pretending not to care, pushing down the boiling hatred and resentment and focusing on her best friend, instead - on how happy this was making her, how the jacket looked better on her, anyway._

_“Yeah,” she said, forcing herself to smile, “of course it is.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Italy is now under complete lockdown, I'm scared and anxious all the time, and I've been writing non-stop to feel productive and distract myself. I had a quarter of the chapter already written when the first one was posted, but I'm very slow at writing and I've had to rewrite some of these scenes like, five times to make sure I got them right and that everything fit together (I set up so. much. stuff). I really hope you like it too. I know I'm not big on replying to comments, but I'll make an effort from now on. I even accept criticism, as long as it's constructive and respectful, so don't be afraid to speak out if there was something you DIDN'T like.  
> Anyway, right now it's looking like the fic will have 4-5 chapters. Maybe 4 + an epilogue. We'll see. Again, I'm very slow but I do want to finish this fic at all costs, so if you don't see me updating for a while, feel free to yell at me. Seriously. I HAVE TO FINISH THIS. I wanted to have it all out before the final season dropped, but writing at least 20k words in two months is an impossible feat for me. I'll try, though. Hopefully I can at least get chapter 3 out by then.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I have bad news and good news.
> 
> Bad news: This is only half of a chapter, which I know is not a good look after not posting anything for more than three months, but the actual chapter was growing too long (I was pushing 12k already and would definitely get to 14-15k at least) and I figured you guys had waited enough, so I decided to split it. I know I said I'd post at least the third chapter before s5 dropped, but I got too caught up in both the pre- and post- season hype, and being stuck home all the time with my family kinda made it impossible to write except at night, so. Here we are.
> 
> Good news: You probably won't have to wait long for the second half. I've only got a couple more scenes left to write and then the editing part, meaning I could probably get it out in the next one to two weeks. Like always, I appreciate your encouragement and even your constructive criticism, if you have any!  
> Enjoy!
> 
> P.S: Obviously, this is now Canon Divergent after s4, so be mindful of that, I guess. Almost all of this chapter was written before s5 aired.

Adora had paced back and forth in her chambers for days before a letter finally came.

That wasn’t to say the previous three months had gone like a breeze; in fact, they’d lasted twice as long to Adora as her one year of rule. It had gotten easier with time, for sure, but she still remembered the franticness of the first few days, of knowing she had still - but _only_ \- three months to get through.

Had she not known something was waiting for her on the other side to give her some reprieve soon, she would have eventually accustomed to her old life again without thinking too hard about it. Instead, prancing about court, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was _wrong_ , like - like Frosta on the beach, was the only comparison that came to mind. Was anything actively forbidding her to have a beach day? Absolutely not, and in fact, it would probably do Frosta some good. Could she survive it no problem? Most likely - as long as someone regularly reminded her to put on sunscreen. Would people still do a double take at the sight of a teenage girl with ice powers quietly sunbathing? Well -

It had a lot to do with Adora missing Catra, she knew. When she’d woken up on the day of her departure, Catra had been gone, but her scent - _their_ scent - had been all over the pillows. Adora hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind; it had followed her all the way to Eternia and kept her up at night. 

Adora liked to think she knew a little bit more about love now than she did before - knew, at the very least, that she'd held it inside her for as long as she’d known Catra, and all she needed to do was learn to identify it. But desire - that was new.

She’d only gotten a taste of it on her last night on Etheria, but it had been enough for her to understand what Glimmer had tried to tell her. It had felt like an exchange, the energy easily flowing in and out of her body and into Catra’s - except at some point the cycle had stopped, and now the energy was stuck inside her, begging to be let out again.

That had been when she hadn't yet been apart from Catra for long enough to actually miss her - a shallow and purely physical need. The hardest part had come after, when the desire had faded and the actual longing had come in. She'd started missing Catra in the simplest, deepest ways - missed being kissed and held by her, yes, but most of all, missed her hand in Catra's like when they were kids, her easy smiles as well as her hard-won smiles, nights telling each other everything but what was really in their hearts. She'd gotten a taste of that too, before leaving, but it was the idea that they'd actually work towards getting all of that back when they saw each other again that sustained her.

She'd sent Catra tons of letters - some extremely corny and inspired by Adora's latest read, some more serious and lengthy. Catra only replied sometimes, usually to make fun of her, but she had told her to expect a letter from her around this week, where she would explain when and where they would meet again.

And then a page had burst through her door. They rarely knocked these days, more concerned with sharing and receiving whiffs of court gossip than with respecting anyone's privacy. The princess receiving a letter was probably the most excitement this page regularly came upon, which was why he'd taken such an interest to her correspondence with Catra. It had come to the point where Adora guessed it had to be her whenever he showed up with the same sly look on his face.

"A letter for Your Highness," he announced proudly.

She didn't think anyone actually _read_ her letters, because the sigil was always intact, and so far no rumors had spread around court that Princess Adora had a secret lover - though only thinking of Catra that way made her heart flutter in her chest. She still put on her blankest face before taking the letter from the page’s hands. "Thank you. You may leave."

The page looked disappointed - he'd probably hoped for more fuel to his fantasies - but did as he was told. 

As for Adora, she opened the letter as soon as he was out of sight.

  


_Hey Adora,_

_celebrations for my birthday start next week. It will be a few days, though, until this letter reaches you. Entrapta promises she's still working on that interplanetary communication system, but she'd need to look into your planet's weird magic some more to avoid interference with our own._

_I’ll be waiting for you, if you still want to come. Let me know for sure, so I can have a room ready for you. Also, wear light clothing - Half Moon is warm as hell at every time of year._

_Catra_

Double Trouble scoffed, peeking over Catra’s shoulder at what she was writing. “You’re sounding a little desperate there, kitten.”

Catra frowned, because this time, she’d taken great care to sound as distant as possible. She’d taken out all the _I can’t wait to see you_ and _Let me know if you’d like a room of your own or if you just want to share mine_ and _Love, Catra_. “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” she said, though she’d definitely called them hoping they’d be nosy enough to take a look at what she was doing.

“‘Wear light clothing’? She’s gonna think you want to jump her bones upon arrival.”

“I added an explanation right there,” Catra insisted, fighting the blush that was coming onto her face. “We’re underground and near the planet’s core. I don’t want her to suffocate. Plus, Adora has the _least_ dirty mind of anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Is that why she wrote in her last letter-”

“Don’t.”

“I’m just saying, she’s very fond of literary metaphors-”

“Maybe _you’re_ the one with a dirty mind, and she’s just very naive about how she can come off,” Catra murmured. “Either way, I’m not writing this again. Just take it to my sister to be sent.”

Double Trouble sighed, getting up off the bed. “Which one?”

“Whichever one’s on duty right now. Anya, I think? I need to get ready for guests."

“They just never stop coming.” They grabbed the sealed letter from Catra’s hands. “Who is it this time?”

They were right to be annoyed, partly. Half Moon really was having an inflow of visitors these days, all of them dropping by to wish her a happy birthday before things got too hectic. That, and Catra had deliberately instructed people to come before the actual celebrations started, so she wouldn’t have too many people around when Adora got there. 

“A friend,” Catra replied, entirely unhelpfully, as she quickly started considering what to wear to dinner. “I know you remember her. You’ve betrayed me for her, after all.”

Double Trouble's smile was contrived and almost reached their ears. "No hard feelings, though?"

Catra looked them up and down one last time before sending them on their way. As long as the kingdoms kept their peace, there was no danger of Double Trouble switching sides again, and even then, she liked to think they'd be reluctant to the idea, given that they had a place at court _and_ on the stage. You couldn't be more loved, admired, and better paid than Double Trouble was right now.

It wasn't exactly the most solid ground for a stable work relationship - but Catra still thought Double Trouble liked her, in their own way. And hell, where would _she_ be without someone giving her a second chance and a place to stay? 

"Nah,” Catra confirmed, waving them away. “No hard feelings.”

  


Glimmer looked about as good as you'd expect, meaning she was wearing a lot of pink, a lot of purple, and her face lit up annoyingly the moment she saw Catra. The fact that Catra’s heart jolted a bit in happiness too, however, was the most annoying thing.

Catra braced herself for what was coming. Watched as Glimmer fought the urge to surge forward and just opened her arms. Squeezed her eyes shut waiting for the inevitable. 

It came along with Glimmer’s voice. “Permission to hug?”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Catra whined, but at this point, it was more performative than anything. She’d missed Glimmer. They weren’t the kind of friends who saw each other all the time - actually, she wasn’t even sure they could be considered friends at all - but being trapped on Horde Prime’s spaceship together had still bonded them forever. “If you have to.”

Beaming, Glimmer skipped a few steps and threw her arms around Catra’s neck, her sickeningly sweet perfume engulfing Catra. “It’s nice to see you.”

Catra chuckled before burying her head in Glimmer’s hair. It was getting longer by the day. "Nice to see you too, Sparkles."

The first surprise of the day came when Catra pulled away from the hug and, looking behind Glimmer, saw the king of Bright Moon himself, his luggage trailing behind. Almost as soon as he walked through the door, he was assisted by Catra's brother Hector, a bulky yet extremely shy Magicat who only smiled kindly at both guests before taking their bags and his leave.

"King Micah," Catra greeted. "It's an honor."

Micah looked at her like he couldn't say the same, but he still nodded respectfully. "We wouldn't miss it."

Catra glanced at Glimmer, confused. King Micah almost never showed up for public events, having spent almost two decades alone on a hostile island, but especially when Catra was involved. The man had never fully forgiven her for Angella’s death, and it wasn’t like Catra could blame him - but he’d lived through Shadow Weaver’s manipulation himself, and maybe him showing up now was a sign that he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Glimmer was about to open her mouth to explain, when Micah landed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get settled, dear. Just call when dinner’s ready.”

She nodded, tilting her head back slightly to accept the kiss her father dropped there. 

Catra watched, ignoring the pang of envy in her gut. Or well, maybe not envy - she’d disliked Glimmer, once, thinking she had everything Catra didn’t, only to realize her façade of happiness had come at a cost.

No, it was more like longing. It stayed with her even after she’d been lucky enough to find part of her family, because her heart wasn’t used to having all its pieces into place and had to periodically recreate fractures to keep itself alive.

Micah bowed his head to Catra and followed Hector to his room, even offering to lighten his load. As Catra watched him go, the ache subsiding only minimally, Glimmer offered her her arm, and there they went, like old ladies, or aristocrats, or enemies-turned-friends enjoying each other’s company. She didn’t know if it had been intentional on Glimmer’s part, if this was her way of offering comfort, but she’d come to know Glimmer was much smarter than she looked, and knowing someone out there had not only changed her mind about her, but convinced others to try and do the same - well, for now, it did the trick. 

"How is he doing?" Catra asked, as a conversation starter. The halls to the newly rebuilt palace were conspicuously empty, everyone getting some needed rest after the work day before having to get ready for dinner.

"Better," Glimmer replied. "We're not staying too long, so I thought it would be a good chance for him to get out and start readjusting. I hope I’m not wrong.”

“No, it was a good call. He’ll like it here.” Due to its underground location Half Moon had to be the most isolated kingdom - not even second to the Kingdom of Snows - and it had the added value of being a place King Micah was mostly familiar with, having fought there against Prime with everyone else. It had been one of the few times King Micah had been seen outside the Bright Moon walls in more than a year.

“And you?” Glimmer turned to face her. “How are you readjusting?”

Catra shrugged, because that was a more loaded question. “I’m doing the best I can. It’s not like I don’t know how to keep myself busy.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Glimmer said. “You got Half Moon rebuilt in record time.” About a year for a whole underground kingdom, using both magic (a little help from the princesses had gone a long way) and normal means. Reparations had only just finished the previous month.

“Well, I didn’t do it _all_ by myself. I just led the operation and provided the means for reconstruction. I’ve also approved some structural changes to our buildings, to make them more durable in case the Heart acted up again.” Which, yeah, was still a lot. The Horde might have ruined her life, but it had also given her the leadership skills to make sure no one had to go through that again. 

Glimmer’s smirk was extremely self-satisfied. “The Heart has been deactivated, and besides, you’ve set up a surveillance system, too.”

Catra looked down, at her bare feet pacing the hall. “I guess I did.”

It was unquestioning that Half Moon was making strides, and that it was mostly thanks to Catra. That every minute after Catra was identified by the Magicats as one of their own, she’d dedicated to making the world she’d almost destroyed _better_ and more functional. That she wasn’t throwing away her second chance at life - that perhaps she’d even deserved it.

Except now, of course, she knew the only reason she’d been granted a second chance at all wasn’t because she’d proven herself worthy of redemption to some higher force that may or may not exist, but because of Adora’s magic pumping through her veins. If Catra had had even the faintest illusion before that her life mattered something in the grand scheme of things, she’d been proven wrong again.

“I’ve been talking to the rest of the princesses, you know,” Glimmer continued after a beat, “to reconsider the terms of your freedom.”

"Oh?" That had Catra's ears twitch in her direction. "Will I finally be allowed to leave the kingdom even without a fancy party going on?"

"Without _supervision_ , yes. The Princess Alliance trusts you enough not to need to keep eyes on you all the time."

“I am touched.” But it _was_ a big deal, actually. Catra had been confined to her kingdom since the war had ended, save for public events - and that one night she’d snuck to Bow’s house to be with Adora. Not that anyone knew about that.

Glimmer squeezed Catra’s arm excitedly. “ _Come on_. You can do better than that. Consider it an early birthday gift.” And she inquired right away: “What are you going to do first?”

“I mean-” Catra shrugged, feeling the implications settle in bit by bit. “I guess I’m glad I can see Scorpia and Entrapta more often.” She’d seen them last at Scorpia’s birthday, which hadn't been too long after Netossa and Spinnerella’s party, and then - nothing, though they’d promised her they would come visit her in time for her birthday. She was glad they’d managed to patch things up, but she realized now that maintaining relationships meant making an effort on all ends, and she hadn’t realized until now how bad she felt about not being able to reciprocate.

Glimmer nodded along. “What else?”

It was partly because the idea wouldn’t leave her alone and partly because she wanted to get a reaction out of Glimmer that she spoke her next words. “I heard Eternia is also good this time of year. Any time of year, really.” 

Predictably, Glimmer froze in her tracks and pulled Catra back by the arm. Catra let her, pretending to be surprised. “Are you expecting Adora, too?”

Catra blinked. “Yeah? She’s supposed to come next week.” 

“She never told me,” Glimmer grumbled. “She probably knew I’d disapprove.”

“Well, yeah, Sparkles, it’s not exactly your business. But if you really need to know, we're just trying to mend our relationship."

Glimmer huffed, but resumed walking. Catra thought she could lead her to the garden - she'd renovated that, too, and she was extremely proud of it. "What _is_ your relationship, anyway? I've always wondered. Adora never talks about it, but the only reason Horde Prime learnt about She-Ra was that shewas all over your thoughts."

"And you're _clearly_ never going to let me live that down."

"It almost caused the end of the world _again,_ so no."

Catra scoffed. "Like you don't think about her."

Glimmer didn't stop this time, which Catra decided to take as a good thing. Still, she was really interested in Glimmer's reply. When she looked at her, Glimmer was furrowing her eyebrows. "I do. But she's my friend."

"Relax, I'm only sort of kidding. I won’t tell Bow you’re cheating on him or anything.”

Her head snapped in Catra’s direction. “ _What_?” Glimmer shrieked in one of her _ultrasensitive_ ears. “Did Adora tell you that?”

As soon as Catra could actually hear again, she had to sort out her own thoughts. “No? Was that supposed to be a secret? Because everyone knew.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“You literally didn’t even try to hide it.” Her head was going a mile a minute, trying to wrap around the fact that Adora’s new best friends were even dumber than she thought. “I was only above the ground like _twice_ and I still saw it. The most surprising thing there is that I’m actually happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Glimmer muttered under her breath, “although it’s a little late for that. I broke his heart a few months ago and I think he’s with Perfuma now, so -”

She didn't elaborate. Catra didn’t ask her to, either.

They walked in silence for a few steps until they reached the garden. Catra had never had a green thumb, but she’d been adamant on making this place as comforting as possible after learning she’d have to be confined there. Half Moon wasn’t exactly like Bright Moon, or Salineas, or Plumeria - there were no woods to run through and no sky to look up to, just rock as far as the eye could see. So Catra had planted flowers. This was where she went when she needed a quiet place to think.

She dropped down on a bench by the underground river and was waiting for Glimmer to join her, but Glimmer stayed on the doorstep.

“And Adora?” she asked in the tiniest voice. “Are you going to break _her_ heart?”

Catra had expected such a question, though she hadn’t come up with an answer so far. She dipped one hand in the water, enjoying the heat while she thought. “Everyone’s always so worried about Adora,” she reflected out loud. “No one ever considers that she could break my heart instead.”

Glimmer moved closer, maybe emboldened by the words, or maybe needing to make her point clearer. “If you're serious about this, work on fixing things between you - before it’s too late." Her voice softened a bit there, but the rest of that sentence convinced Catra that it hadn't been intentional. "But if you ruin it - I swear, Catra, I'm not going to allow you twenty feet from each other again."

“I know,” Catra said, still looking at the water. “I’d let her go myself if I could.”

No one spoke for a few seconds, the silence filled only by the rush of the river. Glimmer lay a hand on Catra's shoulder, which she didn't know whether to take as comforting or threatening, and sat right by her on the bench.

"So," Glimmer chirped up suddenly, "I love what you've done with the place. Last time I was here, this was a pile of rubble."

  


Adora had insisted on no one accompanying her on her journey. First of all, because she didn’t want to bother the royal pilot for what was essentially private business, and second of all - because she really wanted to fly Mara's ship herself. A very excited Entrapta had shown both her and Bow how to do it when they’d flown to Glimmer’s rescue years before, and though they’d still had to rely on the autopilot system for anything beyond very simple maneuvers, Adora had liked it well enough to keep practicing after the war.

Sure, she could’ve let someone else take care of it, like the last time, while she stared longingly and dramatically out the window, watching planets and stars go by - or she could enjoy the look on Catra’s face when she landed the ship right in front of her.

Of course, she hadn't considered the fact that landing a spaceship wasn't an easy pursuit, and that it required much more focus than would have allowed her to show off; but while she might have missed Catra's very first reaction, she wasn't disappointed to raise her head from the commands to find Catra impressed.

She didn’t _have_ to take Adora all the way. Adora knew where the entrance to Half Moon was, had already explored those tunnels with a crazy space emperor’s figurative gun to her head, and could’ve just met Catra at the palace. But she’d expected Catra to be there regardless, and she had been right.

There was a lilt to Adora's step as she opened the doors to the ship.

Catra, who'd stood at the spaceship’s front when Adora had seen her, had clearly run up to the bottom of the few steps Adora was climbing down, so that the first thing Adora felt was a little jolt in her heart. The last few times she’d seen Catra she’d been in her formalwear, which had elicited a different kind of reaction. Now she stood in a simple maroon linen shirt and dark shorts and Adora's main preoccupation wasn't to throw herself in her arms and kiss her, though she counted on doing just that very soon. She wanted to soak her in and be with her and, as beautiful as that elation was, be with her _enough_ that the sense of familiarity won over the rush of illicitness.

Adora had once been with Catra everyday, known her like the back of her hand. She never again wanted to be surprised by her hair having grown long, or by her different clothes, or by her excitement being toned down to cautiousness. She wanted, more than anything, for things to be easy again, and to wipe the confused look off Catra's face as she pulled out of reach of Adora's arms, already extended for a hug, to say:

"Adora, what the _hell_ are you wearing?"

And there it was, the second thing Adora felt. Warmth. Scratch that - it was boiling hot. Adora's body felt like it was being slowly cooked inside its case, a sort of space gear that was the protocol for these long travels.

Adora looked down on herself and, instead of being suave as she'd imagined, could only puff out: "Oh."

Catra rolled her eyes, her hands already going to unbutton Adora's gear so she could get her out before she got a heat stroke. "I thought I told you to wear light clothes."

"I thought that was a euphemism," she whispered, though there was no one else listening. When Catra raised her head her cheeks were red, and Adora must’ve crossed a line or something, so she rushed to add: "I didn't remember it being that bad last time I was underground.”

"Yeah, well, last time you were there, you were also She-Ra," Catra muttered, but she didn’t look angry. That came as a relief to Adora, who was afraid she’d ruined everything already. "And trust me, the further down we go, the hotter it is.”

“Well, it gets cold in space,” Adora tried to defend herself as Catra finally got her out of the gear to reveal - a warm tunic with fleece pants.

Catra just stared at her, defeated, and pushed the space gear into her hands so Adora could go back in and leave it on the ship. “At least tell me you _packed_ light clothes," she called from outside.

“Uh-” Adora grabbed all of her stuff and poked her head back out. She remembered a couple of dresses, shirts and nightgowns - all extremely fine and elaborate, things she’d packed hoping she’d never have to wear. Though that was the case for most of the clothes she owned.

Catra sneered, apparently reading her mind. "It's okay. You can wear something of mine."

 _I can?_ Adora wanted to ask, but Catra started towards the entrance to the tunnel the second Adora came down again, bags and all.

“Check this out,” Catra gestured excitedly in front of her, “I’ve had this built when relations between kingdoms were re-established. Figured I should make it easier for everyone to get to Half Moon.”

Adora followed her, her suitcase trailing behind her to see what Catra was talking about. She’d been expecting the same half-hour walk through twists and turns from when they were looking for the Heart, but at the entrance of the tunnel was something that looked a lot like a mine cart, on a track that got lost in the darkness and was clearly headed underground. Catra jumped in it without hesitation and glanced back to look at Adora expectantly.

Adora could tell Catra expected a compliment, and she definitely deserved one, but Adora couldn’t shake off her worry. “Uh, Catra - is this safe? Will it hold my weight?”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, of course. It can carry up to four people. Jump on.”

Adora assumed the track, too, had been tested extensively; Catra was thorough like that, she was finding. Once she’d heaved the suitcase on the cart and then got settled herself, Catra reached for a lever by the side of the track - and there they went.

The ride was quick and painless, though not without a few bumps. The tunnels they'd once tried to find their way through went by in a blur, the air growing hotter and hotter as they barrelled down the road until they came to a stop, right in front of the royal palace.

A crowd of Magicats, which Adora could only assume was Catra's family, was gathered by the entrance, talking ushedly. They stopped the second Catra emerged from the cart, looking slightly murderous.

"Didn't you all have places to be?"

"Not for a while," the bravest one among them replied, a girl about Catra's age but with much darker fur, "and we wanted to meet She-Ra."

"You're the one who saved the world," another one said, looking at Adora with barely veiled admiration. "And saved Catra."

Adora had thought it would be harder to see the place where the Heart used to be, thought it would unlock bad memories. It wasn't the tunnels, though, or even seeing Half Moon and its houses. Somehow, it was those words.

_You've saved the world._

"I wish I could've done more," Adora replied. "Stopped the Heart from firing."

"Not your fault. We've rebuilt Half Moon to be stronger, anyway."

One of the Magicats, a short teenager with blonde fur, tugged on Adora’s suitcase to take it off her hands, and it distracted her enough for the feeling to be gone a second later.

“Adora, meet my brother Hector,” Catra announced. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t always work this hard. We take turns for pretty much everything, and this is just his week on room service.”

“It used to be Catra’s,” the brave one snickered, “but I guess she decided to focus all of her attention on you.”

Catra turned on the girl murderously. “It’s my coronation week. I’ve got guests coming from all over.”

“Sure. But some you care about more than others.”

“Mira, why don’t you go check on the kitchens and then bring Adora’s food up to her? I bet she’s hungry.”

Adora wasn’t, really, but she didn’t want to put Catra into a difficult situation, so she just extended her arm to the girl before she left: “Pleasure to meet you, Mira.”

“That’s Anya,” Catra went on, “Sam, Cyrus, Xavier… I have no idea where Vee is-”

Adora could barely keep up with all the handshakes and forgot everyone’s name the moment they were done introducing themselves.

“They’re all my siblings,” Catra further explained, “sort of. It’s not even all of them.”

Adora had to admit she had no idea how many children normal families usually had, so she wouldn’t know whether her observation would be well-received or not. All her life - or, well, since she’d figured out what a family was - nearly everyone she’d met had been an only child, siblings being extremely rare. Even with the excuse of a war going on, she couldn’t help but think that eight children - _not even all of them_ , Catra had said - were… excessive. 

Catra didn’t wait for her to formulate that thought, however. As soon as introductions were done, she rushed Adora in to start giving her a tour of the palace as some of the Magicats started filing out, telling Adora they’d see her in the morning. It was probably good that she'd landed this late, so she had more time to learn everyone’s names before being forced to make conversation with them.

Some of Catra’s siblings followed them on their tour, however - including Cyrus, who was curious to know more about She-Ra - and dispersed bit by bit when they got to their rooms, or wherever they were supposed to be after dinner. Soon enough, Catra and Adora were left alone, with Catra still illustrating how they’d rebuilt the palace together from scratch. It looked nothing like Grayskull Castle on Eternia, or even Bright Moon, and more like a really nice household, the kind Bow and his fathers would probably like living in.

“They don’t look like you,” she said to Catra as the last of her siblings left. “They don’t even look like each other, really.”

Catra chuckled and, to Adora’s surprise, grabbed her hand. "You really let me drone on about the history of this place for twenty minutes before asking."

"I didn't want to seem rude."

"It's fine," Catra promised. "We have no way of knowing if they’re actually my siblings.”

Adora eyed her sceptically, and her eyes fell on the curve of Catra's shoulder. She wondered if she could lay her head there - if itwas allowed, to walk hand in hand in Catra's home like that. Adora wanted it so bad the conversation slipped from her before it even started. “Uh?”

“I mean, they’re definitely from my same royal cluster. We recognize our own. But everyone here is free to marry who they want - and by that I mean, _as many people_ as they want, too. So children of the same cluster just grow up together, regardless of who their birth parents are.”

Adora had never really thoughtabout a system like that, one that hinged on the idea of people having multiple partners - but she supposed it couldn’t be that uncommon, even outside of Half Moon. While she tried to sleep at night, closing her eyes against the urge to touch the one person she wanted, she heard Kyle and Rogelio whispering, sometimes, and Lonnie leaving her bunk to join in, her voice slightly softer than it was during the day.

“So are the royal clusters still around?”

“Most of them, yeah. Not enough room in the palace for all of them, so they’re scattered everywhere in the kingdom, but you’ll meet them tomorrow.”

“Are they nice to you?”

For some reason, Adora felt her hand being squeezed. She glanced at Catra to find her expression had darkened slightly, though her reply was positive. “They love me a lot.”

Adora wanted to be happy for her, but the complicated expression across Catra’s face wouldn’t fully let her. So Adora stopped wondering what was allowed and what wasn’t, and lay her head down on Catra’s shoulder, hoping Catra would feel the affection coming off of her in waves. “I’m glad.”

They stopped in front of a closed door which, Adora assumed, was to be her room. It opened with a simple key, which came as a surprise to Adora, who’d lived for years with fingerprint scanners or facial recognition softwares. It was interesting how Half Moon didn’t seem to rely on either technology or magic half as much as the other kingdoms and definitely less than Eternia, despite how close it had stood to the magic source for the entire planet and despite the fact that they were called _Magic_ ats.

Catra opened the door to a large room, everything perfectly clean and tidied up and - sandal-scented, the fragrance freshening up the whole place. It looked and smelled like Adora expected a cabin in the woods or a mountain shelter to, except a ventilation system was on that made it more bearable for her to be near the planet's core.

Which reminded her.

Her bag had gotten to her room before she had, thanks to Hector, and she heaved it on the neatly made canopy bed to rifle through it, looking for a lighter shirt, a tank top, some shorts. She also eyed the dinner that was served on the bedside table, meat and some rice.

"Right," Catra was suddenly reminded as well, "I'd promised you a change of clothes. Hold on."

"It's fine, Catra," Adora called, pulling out her usual nightgown - long and sheer and pretty, she supposed, though not exactly her style. The royal tailors had insisted a princess couldn’t just sleep in a tank top and shorts, even when there was no one to see her, and she’d figured they knew better. 

The look on Catra’s face quickly made her rethink things. “They actually make you dress like that all the time? God, just - wait here."

The door closed again behind her, and Adora was left alone. She’d told the truth - she _wasn't_ hungry, but the long trip and what little socialization she’d had was already weighing down on her. She sat on the bed, trying how soft it was - pleased to find it not _too_ soft - and shoved some chunks of meat in her mouth, just to do something with her hands. Then some more. And some more.

When Catra came back, she found her slouched on the bed, head held up by two cushions, the plate in her lap half empty. She smirked at the sight, dropping a pile of clothes by her. “Here. I’m down the hall if you need anything - the red door, not the maroon one.”

“Aren’t we eating together?” Adora mumbled, a forkful of rice falling from her mouth. That wasn’t the question she meant to ask, but it was close enough to it. Truthfully, Adora hadn’t expected to be given her own room - and to actually have to sleep in it.

Catra was trying hard to hold back her laughter, but her eyes grew serious. “You’ve travelled all day, and we’ve got a bigger day ahead of us tomorrow. Get some rest.”

“Wait, Catra-” Adora called the second Catra turned her back, only to find herself at a loss of what to say. “Goodnight.”

Catra looked at her for a while - so long that Adora thought she would say something, like _I missed you_ or _I’m glad you’re here_. She didn’t. “Goodnight, Adora.”

  


Catra couldn’t sleep.

It had a lot to do with Adora only being a few doors away - not on another planet, not in another kingdom, but close enough that the only thing standing between them was Catra's stubbornness.

She _could_ have gone to her, if she wanted to. She could have spent the night with her, as Adora clearly wanted her to do. She could kiss Adora until her blood stopped singing for her.

But sometimes, she thought she needed Adora more than she loved her. Like all of her efforts to be a person would be vanified if she couldn't reach out every once in a while to find Adora next to her. She wasn't looking forward to finding out if that was the truth.

A knock came on the door.

She'd just wait in the dark, breath abated, for the truth to come to her. "Come in.”

Adora had never been in this room before, and she had never opened this door. And yet, Catra still knew it was her by the door’s creak. Her suspicions were confirmed - but who else would come to her room at night - by Adora's shadow being cast on the wall, framed in a square of light. 

“I can’t sleep,” was all Adora said. Catra didn’t turn on her other side to look, but she knew what was coming.

“Why?”

There was a small pause and the sound of feet scuffling as Adora tried to find her words. “I’m wearing your clothes,” she whispered, eventually, so softly Catra could barely hear her, “and they smell like you.”

That. Catra wasn't expecting _that_.

Adora wasn't a big talker. For all that she should've been the one to inspire the masses and make big heroic speeches about the power of friendship after every battle, Adora usually let her actions speak for themselves - and not-so-effectively, too. Her somehow managing to grasp the exact combination of words that would hit her the hardest wasn’t only rare - it was unprecedented.

Catra scooted forward, making room for Adora on the bed. She waited to hear the door creak closed, and footsteps drawing near. She waited to feel the bed dip under Adora’s weight.

Adora snaked her arms around Catra's waist and molded her form to hers, her head buried in the nook of Catra's neck. All of Adora was flush against her, all the way to her nails, to the tip of her toes.

"It was making me crazy," Adora muttered, her lips kissing Catra's skin when they so much as moved. "Feeling you all around me, and you weren't there."

Her hand went up to tangle in Catra's hair, threading through it as she did when they were little kids. Catra had always had an aversion to hairbrushes - they mostly just wasted her time, and did nothing for the unruly mess on her head - but she'd fallen asleep to Adora brushing her fingers through her hair almost every night for the first ten years of her life. She was nowhere near falling asleep now.

“I missed this,” Adora confessed, her breath now tickling Catra’s ear. When it quirked up, Adora’s fingers quickly worked to smooth it over, stroking the tufts of fur there too. “I missed cuddling you.”

Catra should probably say something already. She couldn’t just stop speaking because she was afraid of her voice dying in her throat. “Mmh. But we didn’t do all that other stuff in the Horde.”

Adora was silent for a while, mindlessly threading her fingers through Catra’s hair. Catra wondered if she was thinking about the night at Bow’s house, too, or just the many times they’d kissed at parties, when no one was looking. Then: “Maybe we should have.”

Catra frowned. She tugged at the hand that was still on her waist, silently asking for Adora's grip to loosen, and she turned in Adora's arms so that she was finally facing her, the tips of their noses close enough to touch. As she observed Adora's eyelids flutter in the dark, Adora went back to brushing strands of Catra's hair.

"Do you think we would have?" Catra asked. "If you hadn't left the Horde?"

“I think so. Eventually.” Adora nuzzled closer to her, humming her contentment - or maybe she was just tired. “You were my lifeline. I dreamt of coming home to you at night and shutting the rest of the world out.”

This is why Catra didn’t like thinking about the Horde. It had arguably been the darkest, most traumatic time of her life, and she’d been told that accepting it was the first step to making peace with it. But sometimes, at least when it came to Adora, she found herself thinking that there had been good among the bad.

She didn’t know what was worse; to think she’d never _actually_ been happy in her life, and at this rate would never be, or to miss what everyone told her she had to banish out of her mind. “Even if home was just a Force Captain room?”

Because would it have been that bad, really, if things had gone just a little differently? If Adora had held on just a little longer, like Catra had been holding on, until she became Force Captain and eventually took over the Horde? Wouldn't they have been together, then - wouldn't Adora have driven Shadow Weaver and Hordak away, sucked bruises into Catra's neck at night, wouldn't Catra have had a place to put down all of that wanting without it turning ugly and wretched?

“Yes,” Adora nodded into her skin. “So long as it was all we could have.”

Catra still wasn’t sure that _wasn’t_ the case. "And then?"

“And then I wanted us to be safe.”

But that wasn’t it, Catra knew. Adora hadn’t left to keep Catra safe, but despite the fact that she wouldn’t be. Adora had put the safety of people she’d never met above Catra’s, and Catra had been supposed to be okay with it and recognize it as the morally sound choice, even though doing the right thing had brought Adora nothing but pain, in the end.

"Do you feel safe now?" Catra asked, genuinely curious. Part of her thought safety without happiness was overrated, but then again, Adora had always been one to conflate the two.

Yet Adora stayed quiet for a while, and when she did speak, she just turned the question on Catra. "Do you?"

And she probably expected Catra to say yes, so she could rejoice in the fact that she’d made the right choice, once upon a time. That Catra had been fine without her, and had eventually arrived where she was meant to be regardless. But it would be too long and too disappointing a conversation to have now. "Ask me tomorrow."

"Catra,” Adora whispered one more time. Catra squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she wouldn’t push it, that it could just stay the two of them for one night, without the pain that came from trying to understand each other. But she just pushed her knee between Catra’s legs, wrapping her other leg up around them in a cocoon. “Don't leave before I wake up."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well thank GOD I split up this chapter, because this second half turned out to be longer than I thought. While I had this (half) chapter already plotted out, keep in mind that I only got to writing it after s5 had already aired, unlike the previous one. So there might be some influences there I hadn't accounted for.  
> One day I'll write something that isn't ham-fisted and unnecessarily dramatic but TODAY'S NOT THAT DAY, BITCH. Shit's going down.

In the morning, Catra took her to the baths.

The underground river had carved its path in the rock over thousand of years, creating the complicated cave network that would eventually become Half Moon, and while most Magicats didn’t mind the communal baths, royal clusters also had access to private baths inside the palace. The only true difference between them and the ones other Magicats used, according to Catra, was slightly better architecture.

Adora had enjoyed the modesty of the palace the night before, and wasn’t expecting much more in terms of grandeur, especially when it came to the baths. It turned out, however, that while the place might not have been excessively large or sumptuous, the ceiling was high enough to make her dizzy. Light entered the cave from a hole farther up than she could see, making it more akin to a well, and while they weren’t too deep underground, the room was colder than anywhere else in Half Moon, far enough from both the heat of the underground geysers and the heat of the sun up above.

What had _really_ surprised her, however, was Catra suggesting it to her first thing in the morning. It wasn't just waking up to the darkness of their - Catra's - room, still tangled up together, to find that Catra had stayed with her after all; it was that Catra, well - had never seemed to like water very much.

But she saw, now, why Catra would make an exception for this. Now that she was soaked to the neck in hot, bubbling water, she _understood_. Head laid back on the rock ledge, mouth gaping in wonder, Adora felt muscles relax that she didn’t even know she had.

Soft laughter and water splashing not too far ahead forced her back to reality for all of two seconds, only to be plunged back into her reverie when she opened her eyes and realized Catra had joined her. She was wearing a black bathing suit that wasn't too dissimilar from her normal pajamas, in terms of how much skin it covered, but she’d tied her hair up in a high ponytail, so that her curls barely touched her shoulders. There were new freckles there that Adora had never seen, and had presumably appeared on Catra's skin in the past few months. Adora, who'd known every inch of Catra's body since they were kids, every scar and stripe and bruise and mark, had missed it.

Don’t get her wrong - she’d been responsible for potentially life-ending decisions more than a couple times, and crumbled under the weight of all of them. The feeling of reality pressing in on her, falling apart thread by thread, wasn’t new. The quiet resolution that burned through her, however, as her heart beat _want, want, want,_ Adora had only known once before.

It was weird, how straightforward that desire was. It popped into her head, unprompted and unmediated, and occupied all of her thoughts. Catra was looking at her now, though, forehead crinkled in worry, so Adora sputtered the first coherent thought that came to mind: “Does the water have magical properties?”

Catra giggled, sinking further down into the pool. Her ankle brushed Adora's shin for the span of a breath, then settled down by her. "What kind of properties?"

Adora didn't know it was possible for half of her to feel so soothed, when the other half was on fire. "I don't know. Is any magic involved at all?"

“Don’t think so. What magic we had was connected to the planet’s core, but then the First Ones took control of our runestone and used it to store all the power they could for themselves.”

Adora blinked, pieces suddenly fitting together that she hadn't even considered to be related. "Wait. The _Heart of Etheria_ was your runestone?"

"Uh, yeah. Did you think it was another piece of First Ones tech?”

“Yes?” Duty towards her people compelled her to defend their honor, call Catra out for the spiteful way she addressed them - but common sense reminded her that Eternians had hijacked and ruined everything they couldn’t build themselves, so she stayed quiet.

With a scoff, Catra continued. "Well, The Heart was deactivated and our runestone along with it, so there’s no telling if our magic survived. Even if it did, the people who knew how to use it are long gone."

"But what if someone was particularly sensitive to the magic? Wouldn’t they feel it anyway?”

Catra laughed again - that light, squeaky laugh of hers. She arched her chest up into it, her neck laid bare, and Adora _wanted_ like she'd never had before. It was a kind of terrifying, generalized want that couldn’t be quenched by any normal means, and the more Adora tried to fix on it, to grasp it, to understand what its object was, the more it slipped away.

“I don’t think that’s your case, Adora. It was shapeshifting magic - allowing us to transform into felines, you know, hence the name _Magicats._ It changed our physical appearance, maybe heightened some of our instincts, but - nothing past that. So whatever it is you’re feeling right now, it’s all you.” Adora was still mulling over those words when Catra's foot found hers, knocking against it to trace a line up her shin. It wasn’t the gesture itself that undid her; it was the cautious way Catra avoided piercing Adora’s skin with her claws, the way she looked at her, careful to register every change on Adora’s face. "I hope it's good."

Adora followed the droplets of water running down Catra's collarbones, touching her upper lip. Even the locks of hair that were hanging low were getting wet. Warmth radiated off of her in waves. “It is.”

The feeling was there and gone with one last gentle stroke as Catra drew back.

"You had to be born with the ability, anyway," Catra rambled on, like she expected Adora to _still_ focus on that conversation. “It used to be a marker of royal blood. Most people in our family had it, and would usually pass it on to their children even when their partner didn’t.”

“Mmh.” Adora had observed all of Catra’s defense mechanisms up close, and come to know them very well. Lashing out was frequent; ranting was new. She let go of the rock ledge to wade closer to her.

"But even before the First Ones came, our family line was so watered down that only few people were still able to transform. It's why we started the whole cluster thing - we figured, why limit our chances to pass down the gift?" She shrugged. "It only kept the magic alive for a little while, until it was taken from us for good, but the cluster system just kind of - stuck, I guess, until it extended outside of royal circles, too.”

Adora grew bolder, then, and floated right into Catra’s space - close enough to wrap an arm around her waist, but not close enough to make her feel backed into a corner. Though she’d wanted to touch Catra since first getting into the pool - since Catra had untangled her body from hers that morning - Adora had to admit that her only reason for doing _that_ was a sudden ugly, ugly feeling that reared its head deep in her gut.

She started to ask "Are you-", but paused when she realized where she was going with it. Catra encouraged her to go on with a look, though she couldn't help but stumble through her words anyway. "Are you going to have one, too? A cluster, I mean.”

Catra looked hesitant for all of two seconds, in which Adora convinced herself that she would either lash out or avoid the question entirely by spouting another tidbit of Magicat history. The smirk that slowly crossed Catra’s lips, though, was enough to make her regret asking.

“Why, did you want me all to yourself?”

Adora didn’t feel like she should be the one flustered. She thought she’d made her intentions to be part of Catra’s life extremely clear, and while she still didn’t know in what way, and for how long, this was as good a time as any to start figuring it out. She squeezed Catra’s waist, hoping it would give her courage, but then just stuttered: “Yes. I mean, I _did_ , but - it’s fine if you want to keep yourself open. Or the - relationship, I guess. I just need to know.”

Catra’s smile dropped - or, it didn’t drop, just turned into something else. Something more pensive, maybe, and more fragile. "You have me," she murmured - her fingers drifting over Adora's back, where her scars were, and settling finally around her neck. The scars didn't hurt Adora anymore, but under Catra's hands they begged to be reopened. "You _have_ me."

The ugly feeling turned itself over, its edges only just smoothed out. Catra’s words only spurred it on, gave it space to grow when they should’ve squashed it, and Catra’s body was too warm in her arms. Adora bent down to kiss the new freckles on her shoulder, and then tilted Catra’s head up to do the same to her lips.

At first, kissing Catra had had the same effect on Adora as a glass of good wine - made her dizzy, fearless, weightless. But once Catra had unlocked the magic within her, it seemed to Adora that her kisses _grounded_ her instead. Her mind didn’t blissfully shut down when Catra was too close, but rather fixated on the smallest things until Adora’s self-control snapped for being spread too thin.

This time, what did it was Catra sighing into her mouth, which had her black-out for all of two seconds before slamming her back into her body, painstakingly aware of Catra's tongue trying to trace the outline of her teeth. Adora opened her mouth wider, allowing her easier access, and pulled her closer, her thigh locked in between Catra's legs, fingers digging into Catra's skin hard enough to leave bruises.

Adora had found the cave refreshing, at first, a reprieve from the sweltering heat of the rest of the underground tunnels, but now - she had to periodically push away Catra just so she could _breathe_ and keep her skin from melting off. She might as well be in a freaking sauna _._

Catra's hands were still wandering all over her back, head burrowed in Adora's shoulder, where she kept mouthing at. Adora was stroking her hair, occasionally murmuring nonsense into it, but found her hand drawn again and again to where the straps of Catra's top were interlaced.

"Catra," she asked under her breath, only receiving a hum in response. "Do the Magicats know who I am?"

Catra raised her head to smirk at her. "I think Cyrus’s reaction to She-Ra was hard to miss."

"No, like - who I am to _you._ ”

Catra looked slightly taken aback, like she hadn't considered it herself. She frowned, her eyes narrowing in on her. "What _are_ you to me?”

"I mean, did you tell them I was an ex best friend, or-"

"I don't really - talk to them about you. But they have their own ideas, I'm sure."

Well, that told Adora absolutely nothing, which was a shame. She had to admit she was curious about how their relationship was perceived by outsiders - mostly because other people always seemed to understand more than she did. "I _do_ sleep in your bed and kiss you all the time."

"Hey, there’s a perfectly good room you could use, if you wanted."

"And you're royalty."

"We don't really consider ourselves that anymore, but sure."

"Does that make me your mistress?"

Catra's laughter was sudden, loud, and extremely pitchy at the end. "I don't think that's how it works, Adora." She buried her face back into Adora’s neck, her laughter still vibrating against Adora’s skin. Adora strongly suspected she only did that so Adora wouldn’t see her blush, and her heart clenched tight in her chest, though not unpleasantly.

She dropped a kiss into Catra’s hair, breathing her in, and joined in her laughter. It bore none of the ugly emotional weight of the previous feeling. “Lover, then.”

Adora loved the sound of it, loved the way it rolled off her tongue, though it felt - more vulnerable to say. More tender.

Catra didn't seem to have strong feelings either way, but she did pause for longer than Adora thought a single word required. "That's just the old, fancy word for girlfriend."

A shiver went through Adora’s body. “Yeah.”

She tried to wrap her mind around it, around Catra maybe, possibly, becoming her girlfriend. Her feelings towards her hadn’t been platonic for a long time, but on the other hand, she couldn’t really tell when they’d changed, either. She didn’t think they had; she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t wanted to be with Catra. It was the clarity regarding them that was new.

Again, Catra didn’t respond. Adora’s own reply had been breathless, and she wasn’t sure Catra had even heard her, because she kept pressing kisses against Adora’s neck and shoulders like her life depended on it.

That was okay. Adora didn’t need an answer right away, and while she _was_ there to talk, getting Catra to open up would require some more time. _This_ , she thought pulling Catra more firmly against her, was a distraction she didn’t mind. Her fingers slipped under Catra’s straps again, tugging on them.

Someone came running in - one of Catra’s siblings, though Adora couldn’t remember their name. She sprung away from Catra, wanting to spare her any embarrassment, but it was Catra who held her there, staring down her sibling like this was a major breach of privacy, which, to be fair, it kinda was. Adora might still be getting used to the Magicats’ communal living, but even in the Horde private bathrooms were supposed to be… private.

At least Catra’s sibling had the decency to look ashamed, she supposed. “Sorry! I would’ve knocked if I’d known she was here!”

Catra opened her mouth, clearly wanting to argue further, but Adora nuzzled her face - Catra’s skin was still so _hot_ \- which seemed to calm her down, or at least keep her from making a scene. Next thing Adora knew, Catra’s arms were snaking around her waist, perhaps subtly communicating to her sibling to make it quick. “What do you want, Sam?”

"Scorpia and Entrapta are here,” they said, eyes flitting between Adora and Catra. “Should I keep them in the hall while they wait for you, or do you want to, uh - finish here first and see them once they’re settled in?”

Catra sighed in fake-annoyance, but Adora caught the first hint of a smile. "No, it's fine. I'll meet them there in a few."

Sam was so eager to leave that, in their haste, they didn't even say goodbye, nor noticed Catra reluctantly escaping Adora's grasp and slowly rising out of the water.

Adora very much did, though. For all that the warmth had felt suffocating only a moment before, the chill of the cave seemed to hit her full force without Catra's body heat against her. Watching Catra step out of the bath and wrap herself in a towel - her perfect form dripping over the floor of the cave, her hands fixing the straps of the bathing suit that were nearly undone - only had her long for when they’d be alone again that night. After the celebrations, and the social talk, when they could be Adora and Catra again. After it all.

  


Catra would have liked to remember her birthday dinner as some deeply emotional night, where reuniting with Scorpia and Entrapta had finally made her understand the true meaning of friendship, and how much power there was in loving people and people loving you back - so much more than in hatred and revenge. A couple years into the future, she would in fact look back and realize that was the case.

For now, however, Catra was about half an hour into one of Entrapta’s theories (the third one, so far) about the Heart of Etheria and how she could take apart the First Ones tech to try to safely salvage the magic inside. Everyone had made their point very clear, and very early on in the conversation, that they didn’t doubt in her technological skills - it was the “safely” part they took issue with. Entrapta didn’t seem to pay them any mind.

“For all intents and purposes, the Heart has been deactivated, yes,” she replied to no one, “but if there’s anything I’ve learnt in my lifelong research, it’s that magic rarely disappears into thin air - but it _can_ take on other forms. Its traces are preserved for thousands of years even in technological artefacts which harness it as their energy source, and when I think about all the _power_ that’s still trapped in the Heart, still looking for a way to come out-”

“You feel… sad?” Scorpia tried, perhaps just to show she was listening. Catra tried really hard to follow her example - she was trying to be a better friend, damn it - but Adora had kept her from nodding off more than a few times now, gently pinching her arm.

“Sad?” Entrapta marvelled at the notion. “That the First Ones were able to build technology this durable? No way! Learning their secrets would be a _huge_ step towards establishing a line of communication that’s compatible with ours.”

“And... freeing the magic?”

“Oh! That too!”

“Can I, uh, do anything to help?” asked Adora, ever the selfless. “I can probably hook you up with some tech expert on Eternia.”

“You would _do_ that?” Entrapta’s eyes sparkled in excitement. No, really. It was like wires had connected right behind her eyeballs. “We could figure out this whole interplanetary communication system thing together!”

“And the magic,” Scorpia reminded her under her breath.

“And the magic!”

“How about you, Scorpia?” Catra cut in, taking that chance to open a discussion they could all participate in. “Any news from the Scorpion Kingdom? You said earlier that reparations were still ongoing.”

Scorpia looked happy to answer, gulping down some more of her soup first. It was vegetable soup, which she’d apparently become accustomed to, despite Catra and Adora still refusing to touch anything green with a ten-foot pole. “Yeah, there’s still a lot of work to do, but it’s coming along pretty good. And when I think about my ancestors, and how proud they’d be of me rebuilding their kingdom - it spurs me on.”

Catra couldn’t help but soften at hearing that. It was hard to think of anything at all, with Adora so close to her - their knees knocking together on the same bench, Adora’s breath hitting right over her ear - but sometimes, well, she found herself thinking everything would have been so much easier, if she’d been able to love Scorpia back, instead. If Catra had allowed herself to be with someone as kind and caring as her, someone untainted by Catra’s past, they could’ve been happy. Or at the very least, undisturbed, which was as close to happiness as Catra was ever going to get.

But Adora - she put the breath in Catra’s lungs. Catra burnt herself out for her, and whenever she felt herself getting closer to the wick, to relief, to nothingness, there Adora would be, stoking the flames again.

Even now, her hand rested on Catra’s thigh, drawing circles into the skin there when she was supposed to pay attention to Scorpia. She didn’t think Adora was doing it consciously, just like Catra hadn’t realized when her tail had wrapped around Adora’s wrist, keeping her there. Neither of them made any move to change that.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more,” Catra said, trying to focus on the conversation again. “It’s my fault - and Hordak’s - if the Fright Zone was such a wreck when you got it back.”

“No, wildcat, it’s okay.” What she liked about Scorpia was that she actually _meant_ things like that. “We would be much worse off if Perfuma hadn’t offered to help, and you did what you could before you were sent underground. There was a lot of reconstruction to do here, too.”

“What do you mean, you were _sent_ underground?” Adora turned to her, the light from the bonfire in the middle of the open mess hall flickering on her face. “Was that after I left?”

Catra shrugged. “Like I said, princess,” she grabbed her glass, still swirling with the first wine of the night after more than an hour, and finally gathered the courage to take a sip, “fancy house arrest. Glimmer just relieved me a few days ago.”

“Oh, yeah, how’s she, anyway?” Scorpia cut in before Adora could start questioning why Catra hadn’t told her anything. Catra would have no answer for her that didn’t require her to open up about her feelings of shame, which was by no means birthday talk, so that was probably good. “I know Perfuma was worried about her.”

Catra groaned. A glance to the side told her she had Adora’s full attention, as well; Entrapta had zoned out of the conversation and was messing with her tracker pad. “That’s sweet of her, honestly, but I don’t think there’s any bad blood between them. Glimmer will get over it, eventually.”

“Why would she have it out for Perfuma? They’re really good friends.”

“Yeah, but -” Catra struggled with words for a while before looking at Adora for help. Was Scorpia’s heart too soft to understand jealousy? “I mean, it’s hard when your ex dates someone else.”

She could see the wheels working in Scorpia’s head, trying to compute everything. Then realization dawned on her suddenly. “Wait, she thinks Bow and Perfuma are together?”

“They’re… not?”

“Oh, _no_. Perfuma’s his _therapist_. Suffice to say, he’s not dealing with the break-up well. And… other personal stuff, I guess.”

While Catra _was_ mildly surprised, Adora’s silent reaction particularly stood out to her, since it caused her to take her hands off Catra entirely. Knowing her, her surprise had to be mixed with concern over her friends’ well-being, which was why Catra resolved: “Well, somebody should tell Sparkles that. She’s not doing too well, either.”

She felt Adora withdraw even more, but before she could ask about it, a familiar, grating voice moved her attention elsewhere. “Is she one of yours?”

Mira stood next to their table, holding Entrapta by one of her pigtails while the smaller girl seemingly analyzed a particularly fluffy piece of her fur. “Can you _please_ keep a closer eye on her? I don’t exactly mind her creeping up on guests I don’t like, but she _is_ scaring Vee’s cluster.”

Allegedly Catra’s oldest sister, Vee had already been living the married life when she’d met her; as a result, she rarely hung around the palace anymore and had no patience for her younger siblings’ shenanigans. Weirdly enough, her two spouses seemed much more accomodating, waving shyly at Catra from the cave entrance. Catra waved back, jaw clenched.

“It was important information I needed,” Entrapta retorted. “I’ve been tracking the Heart of Etheria’s magical signature, but first-hand witnesses would’ve _really_ helped explain some of the discrepancies in my data.”

“Alright, Entrapta, then I’ll arrange for you to talk with one of our elders in the morning. They’ll know better than Vee and Mira,” Catra promised, standing up from her seat. “I’ll go get some more food for us, okay? And say hello to Vee’s cluster.”

Mira seemed to approve of the idea and finally put Entrapta down, despite her protests. That was also when Catra foolishly lowered her defenses, because Mira turned her attention onto Adora next. “It’s good to see you, Adora. Did you sleep well? I know the heat might take some getting used to.”

“Oh, yeah!” Adora piped up, too suddenly for it to feel natural. “I slept just fine, thank you.”

“Really? I brought breakfast up to you this morning, and the bed hadn’t even been touched.”

“Let’s go, Mira,” Catra gritted out, grabbing her arm to drag her away from the others.

Vee’s cluster was not the most numerous by far, meaning it was also among the most tightly knit. While groups that got too large to handle eventually split into couples and triads more often than not, Catra had always admired Vee’s for the time and care put into every individual relationship, even between those not romantically involved. As a result, their children (two of which were already born and scurrying around the hall) were growing up with more love and support than they knew what to do with.

After being forcibly hugged by Vee and wished a happy birthday - even though her birthday would only be at midnight - Catra called her nephew and niece over. She held them tight while they pretended not to like it, and even played chase with them for a while, until one of the dads pulled them back, afraid they'd fall and hurt themselves.

That was when one of the parent clusters arrived. It was a cluster of five, built around one of the princes of Half Moon, and even with no proof that this was the cluster she belonged to, Catra had always felt a kinship to them in particular. Maybe it was the prince’s wife, with different-colored eyes just like hers, or the prince himself, who had always been so kind to her. Whatever the reason, she found herself hugging them that much tighter.

It wasn’t the first time in her life she was shown affection, especially after she was taken in by the Magicats, but - she’d always looked at that love from the outside, like she was peeking in on her own happiness instead of reaping its benefits in the moment.

Maybe she didn’t _have_ to be jealous of the kids running around her. Maybe she could be one of them.

She tilted her head up and the prince laid a kiss on her forehead.

Maybe not all love had to turn ugly and possessive and destructive. The way the cluster system still stood strong, even after outliving its usefulness, was proof of that.

She found Double Trouble in the crowd of already seated guests, as she always did when she had a life-altering realization of some kind, because the shapeshifter seemed to smell her crisis from a mile away. They’d strutted up to Adora and appeared to be complimenting her dress, but they lifted their head when they felt Catra’s eyes on them and smirked.

Maybe there was a chance for her love, too.

  


Adora felt the darkness pressing in at the edge of her mind, thoughts swirling around like fine wine filling her to the point of intoxication. She would choke on it soon enough if she didn’t get away from all the people, and the _noise_ \- so much laughter. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves just fine, even when she hadn’t said a word in the past fifteen minutes. Even Scorpia and Entrapta were barely paying her any mind now that they’d started a heated debate over what color the number 5 felt like, red or blue - the answer was obviously yellow, but Adora felt too distanced from it all to even suggest it, and they didn’t seem to need her input, anyway. They weren’t the only ones at that.

So Adora gingerly got up, mentioning that she was going to get some fresh air, and left for the cave directly adjacent to the mess hall, much smaller but quieter, too. She could finally hear her own thoughts and string them into sentences. Through some distant hole in the ceiling, she could even see stars.

It was her fault, honestly - leaving for a year and expecting everything to be the same when she came back. She’d tried her best to keep up with everyone, of course, and sent letters at least every month, but she should have known those dynamics would’ve been irrevocably changed no matter what she did. She _had_ known that, when she’d made her choice, and it hadn’t deterred her one bit - because her friends didn’t need her anymore, and her people did. It did nothing to clear her mind.

It was something about Glimmer and Bow opening up to Catra and Perfuma, respectively, before her. About all the princesses knowing about Catra’s sentence, because they’d decided it together, and Adora being kept in the dark. About Scorpia and Entrapta and all the other guests happily chatting the night away and barely acknowledging her presence in a way that actually mattered. It was never “Adora, my friend who I haven’t seen in a long time”. It was always “Adora, the one from another planet. Adora, who we only have to entertain until she leaves again”. This kept them from delving too deep in their personal lives, if only because she wouldn’t be around enough to be part of them.

And what was she left with that was hers? All her anchors were lost at sea and she was adrift in the storm, her thoughts drowning her and pulling her under and tossing her broken body against the rocks.

Someone found her in the wreckage, as she always did. “Adora?”

Catra stood behind her, her eyes catching the light of the moon. Her claws grasped the lining of her jacket, a few threads coming loose on the pierced fabric underneath. She wasn't smiling, exactly - her worry for Adora was apparent - but she looked… lighter, somehow. Softer. Adora wanted her so much it hurt.

"Are you okay?" Catra stepped closer to her, immediately cradling her face in her hands. It wasn't like her to be so open with her touch anymore - except, apparently, when she felt that Adora needed it. It brought Adora right to the breaking point. "Do you need to get out of here?"

There were hushes and whispers from the other room, which led Catra's gaze up, towards the sky. The light of the moon was projected on the wall of the cave, a narrow and needle-shaped shadow standing out among it to mark the hour. Midnight.

She’d made the right choice, was what Adora always told herself. The sensible choice. If it had come at the cost of all her connections, well - it was the price she’d been born to pay, so no one else would have to. But if she could only have something for herself, just _one_ thing guaranteed to survive the passage of time, she could bear everything else.

She wanted one thing to keep. She wanted one person.

"Happy birthday," she whispered, pressing her cheek into Catra's hands. "I have a gift for you."

“You do? Where is it?” The mischievous spark in Catra’s eyes made Adora’s insides twist. “Should we go to your room?”

“Your room,” Adora shook her head gently, her voice as low as she could make it. “Your room.”

Catra stared at her, hands stilling, trying to figure her out. Her breath on Adora's mouth - Adora could barely smell the wine, but it was there, not intoxicating her but filling her with clarity, instead.

Catra cupped her face more firmly and her lips met Adora's in the briefest of touches, almost coincidental yet firm and resolute. Adora tried to follow her lips, but Catra was already pulling away and wordlessly pulling her along.

The ugly feeling that had been plaguing her since that morning came back full force the second Catra closed the door behind them, but this time, she didn’t push it down. She listened to what it asked of her, what it wanted. What _she_ wanted.

Despite the sound she made when it happened, it was not Catra pushing her against the door to lean back in. Not yet, anyway. “Wait, Catra,” she pleaded before her resolve could waver.

Catra got off of her immediately, though puzzlement was written all over her face. “I thought you meant-”

“I did.” It was getting harder and harder to remember why she couldn’t let Catra have her way with her, or why Adora couldn’t just let things between them run their course. She hadn’t had a plan, the first time. She hadn’t put much thought into what she was doing, or what Catra would have liked. She wanted to do that now, in Catra’s own room, so that even after Adora was inevitably gone, Catra would still remember. The thought sent a thrill down her spine. “Let me take care of you.”

Catra's smile was soft, almost curious. She touched the few hairs that escaped Adora's ponytail and brushed them away, blowing on them for good measure. Her warm breath hit the side of Adora's cheek. _Just give in, Adora. It could be so easy._ "It's my birthday, Adora. I'm pretty sure you have to do what I want.”

“I will,” Adora whispered in the space between them, watching Catra’s mouth fall open at the rebuttal. She echoed in her head, _Everything you want,_ and started pushing her towards the bed, laying her down gently when Catra’s knees hit the footboard.

Adora pulled back slightly to look at her, spread out on the bed, and almost got the breath knocked out of her. Catra was looking up at her like - like she also wanted to imprint this moment on the back of her mind, to take out and revisit when it was gone. She lay there, hair strewn about on the pillow, a hint of a blush on her cheeks, and whatever attention and affection Adora was planning to lavish on Catra, Catra was already giving back sevenfold.

Logically, she’d always known Catra was beautiful, and Catra never let her forget. But now, if Adora looked at her - mouth still half open in wonder, breathing softly, her chest heaving up and down - she didn’t know how she’d given her up before. She didn’t know how she was supposed to do it again now, when all Adora wanted was to keep her right there, in a bed that could’ve become their own, until Eternia either fell out of the sky or came down to take her back.

There were words stuck inside Adora’s throat, and she knew what they were. She just needed Catra - who was showing every sign of being impatient, but still only grabbed Adora’s face to kiss the apple of her cheek - to pull them out.

Adora took a page out of Catra’s book and cupped her face to kiss every one of her freckles. It was a slow and lazy ordeal, their legs intertwined, and sometimes - sometimes Catra pulled back to whimper something in her ear, or push their lips together, and Adora let her, if only for a few seconds. It was hard to tell Catra no, but she also deserved better than the sloppy make-out sessions Adora had been treating her to. She deserved an Adora who was fully in the moment and committed to taking care of her - every inch of her skin, every part of her body.

She deserved an Adora who wouldn’t leave her, but this was the Adora she got, and she would do whatever it took to make it up to her.

“Catra,” she whispered, touching Catra’s chin for good measure to pull her away from the patch of skin she was mouthing over, “you know when I told you that - that it was fine for you to have a cluster, if you wanted one?”

Catra nodded, arms wrapping around Adora’s back to pull them closer again. “Yeah.”

Adora’s fingers curled into Catra’s hair, her eyes avoiding Catra’s. She’d never let it out if she had to look at Catra while doing it and realize how disappointed she was by her, by how selfish Adora was being. “I lied,” she confessed, but that didn’t seem to be enough. She tried again: “I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”

She thought Catra’s smile would either fall or turn into a smirk in the time she spent waiting for her reply, but it never did. If anything, it only grew larger as they took each other in, and when it showed any sign of breaking, it was because Catra could barely contain her giddiness. “Okay.”

“Okay?” This was something Adora had struggled with _her whole life_. Understanding, accepting, and expressing that she didn’t just want Catra, but wanted her _for herself_ , had been like shedding her skin - and Catra was just going to _give it to her_?

She nosed at the curve of Adora's neck, making her shiver. No - she wasn’t shivering on her own. At first she thought Catra was purring against her, until a squeak punctuated Catra’s silent laughter. "God, Adora, you’re so stupid.”

Adora held her while she laughed some more into her shoulders, feeling worse and worse by the second. Maybe - maybe she _was_ stupid. Didn’t mean pouring her heart out had been easy for her. Didn’t mean it didn’t deserve more than an off-handed acknowledgment.

But Catra’s mouth opened and closed several times, always getting stuck on the beginning of a sentence, and Adora realized this must be hard for her, too. Adora had needed a moment of sudden clear-headedness to suggest what it was she needed to say, but Catra was most likely having to push her own words, locked so long and so tight in some hidden drawer of her mind they must’ve caught dust, out of her and past defense mechanisms she’d relied on her entire life. All for Adora - if she decided Adora was worth it.

Eventually, Catra confessed under her breath and against Adora’s skin: “I think there’s something wrong with me.” Her claws were digging into the back of her shoulder as if clinging to a rock ledge, but both of them were too focused on each other to really notice. “With how I’m built. And I could pin this on you bringing me back wrong, but -” One of her hands slipped down Adora’s chest to rest on Catra’s own heart, as if making sure it was still there and beating regularly. “It’s always been like this. Always been you.”

Oh. “You feel wrong… for liking me?”

Catra shook her head firmly, a little chuckle accompanying her pulling back. No, that couldn’t be what she meant. She was peering up at Adora with too much affection, too much care as she stroked Adora’s hair down, pulling on her hair tie experimentally. Adora let her pull it off.

“You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You love everything and everyone. I thought I hated it, but maybe I just _envied_ it. Because mine can only handle so much.”

Adora’s hair spread out across her shoulder, Catra gently tucking some of it back. “One thing, usually. But it wants it _so bad_. It screams and begs for me to get it until it feels like it's going to kill me.”

Adora’s mind was reeling, trying to wrap around Catra’s words, what she could be getting at. But her eyes kept flicking down to her lips. She didn’t think Catra had ever been this open with her, and it made her want to drink in every word, guess what it could be just by its shape before it even left her mouth. She couldn’t keep from tracing them with her thumb. "What happens when you do get it?”

“I don't know," Catra murmured, seemingly entranced by Adora’s finger. Her mismatched eyes flickered up to Adora's, her gaze so intense that it stopped Adora in her tracks. "I only ever wanted you. I can’t even _think_ about anyone else.”

“Promise?”

It slipped out from some corner deep inside of Adora that should’ve never seen the light of day. It felt like a line they shouldn’t thread - they didn’t make promises anymore, not when there was no guarantee they would be able to uphold them. But still, Catra replied: “Promise.”

Adora kissed her, then, and pushed her back on the bed. This felt different. Adora was almost too grounded, too centered on Catra's touch, on every sound she could draw out of her. That her hands and lips couldn’t be everywhere at once felt like the world's ultimate punishment, and it wasn't as sweet or as well-deserved as Adora had always expected it to be.

She trapped Catra's legs between her thighs, holding Catra’s face in her hands as Catra let herself be kissed, and mouthed over her jaw, the curve of her neck, nipped at her shoulder when Catra needed to break away to breathe. Adora, on the other hand, was overwhelmed by the gnawing need to give Catra every single thing she wanted, just in the way she wanted, and everything else, including remembering to breathe, came after.

There was one thing, though. One thing she could - needed to - do without Catra telling her to.

She leant down over her, blonde hair falling down around them to shut them off from the rest of the world, and kissed right over her heart - over her still clothed chest. Some of the residual magic there flew up to touch Adora's lips, leaving them tingling.

"I love you," Adora whispered into Catra's shirt.

She spent the better part of the night showing her how much.

  


Adora woke a few hours later in total darkness. A pleasant weariness had settled in her bones, the same kind she felt after a long and hard training session, and the same which usually pulled her down and under all night. She wasn’t sure, then, what had woken her up just now.

Her arm tightened around Catra, wrapped around her and snoring softly on Adora’s collarbone. She was still there. When they were in the Horde together, and slept in the same bed every night, Adora had gotten used to waking up when she stopped feeling Catra’s weight at her feet - usually due to a nightmare, or to Catra’s night restlessness - and it had gotten her years to fully get rid of that habit. But Catra was sleeping soundly.

Blinking her sleep away, she reached for Catra’s face, pulled back so she could see it better. The fluttering that had taken residence in her chest grew even louder, even quicker through her body’s haze. Catra was beautiful, and she’d told her she loved her. Catra hadn’t said it back, but then again, she’d been too overcome by what was happening to say anything other than Adora’s name, over and over again. Adora had never loved her own name so much as when it came from Catra’s mouth - never doubted for a second that Catra loved her as well, that she owned Catra’s heart in ways few could understand.

It wasn’t just that Adora had literally kept her heart beating when it was so awfully close to stopping; it was that the only reason she’d been able to do so was because Catra owned her, as well. Not just her heart; all of her. All of Adora wanted her, and loved her, and had claimed her. A rush of feeling caught in Adora’s throat, and she couldn’t help pressing a kiss to Catra’s forehead as Catra sighed and relaxed even more in her sleep.

There was a weird sound coming from outside their window. She heard it now, loud and clear like a pulse. She recognized the sound of magic when she heard it, light and whimsical and like an electrical current, but this time warped in a very familiar way. Not a Shadow Weaver way, thankfully - it wasn’t dark magic by any means. But she’d only felt it once before in her life, raising the hairs up on her arms, and perhaps Adora would’ve preferred the evil she knew to _this_.

Trying not to wake Catra up, she laid her back down on the mattress while she slipped out, grabbing - well. She couldn’t just put on her ball gown again - it would have been a dead giveaway to what had happened between them, and besides, Catra had already offered her clothes. She grabbed a random robe that was strewn on a chair, hoped it wasn’t too easily recognizable as Catra’s, and walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.

It wasn’t coming directly from Half Moon. Adora knew without really knowing where her feet were dragging her, because they knew the way, but she was still shocked to her bones when the sound grew louder in the night, its pulse syncing up to Adora’s own heart. She saw flashes in the near distance, a burning smell in the air. She was distantly aware of people murmuring all around her as she walked - more of them than should be up in the middle of the night, some of them fleeing.

Surprisingly enough, when the Heart came into view, Entrapta was kneeling beside it, messing with the control panel.

The houses had been rebuilt far enough away from the area that there should have been no need to worry, but the Heart had blasted out on the rock ceiling, so that brittle stone had fallen a little too close for comfort to the town square.

“I’ve got it!” Entrapta announced, with a lot more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. “It’s under control now. We should probably do something about it blasting off in the middle of the night, though.”

Until Entrapta opened her mouth, Adora had almost hoped she had been the one to tinker with it and accidentally set it off. You couldn’t blame her for thinking it, honestly, and with Entrapta’s track record, it wouldn’t have been unexpected. Now she felt dread seeping in her skin, along with left-over smoke.

“Why?”

Entrapta looked at her, her eyes very alert. “I feel like it could be dangerous.”

“No. Why did it go off? I thought the Heart had been deactivated.”

“Oh, it has! I took care of it myself. But unfortunately, the magic trapped inside hasn't disappeared. It must’ve responded to some kind of external stimulus and overridden the First Ones technology.” Entrapta ignored Adora’s flabbergasted expression, a cold fist of fear tightening in her gut, and frowned down at her tablet. “It's been giving off a weird magical signature for a while now, but I was hoping it could wait until morning when I talked to the elders.”

“You’ve _what_?”

“I told you over dinner,” Entrapta narrowed her eyes. “And you told me to wait ‘til morning.”

“You didn’t.” Adora had really _tried_ to listen, but in all fairness, she hadn’t understood most of it. “How long has this been going on?”

“Like, three months? Yes, I remember. It was the party for Spinnerella and Netossa's baby. It was just a weird ping of activity, nothing to fret about, but it let me know the magic was still in there. Nothing like what happened just now - the only other time I picked up on a magical signature like this was that time Catra almost died." _When you summoned your lost power to save her. The time you convinced yourself you weren't responsible for destroying, but only for healing, because it was easier to accept._ "No idea what made it go off again. Not to worry, though. I’ll figure it out soon enough!”

Now that the danger seemed to be gone, more and more people were leaving their houses and crowding around them.

If Adora had still been She-Ra, she would have made a grand speech, encouraging everyone to keep their heads up, go back to sleep, and let her take care of everything. Then she’d start lifting blocks, moving them around, trying to single-handedly lead the rebuilding until she almost collapsed and one of her friends had to drag her home.

She would have no friends here, soon enough, and she wasn’t She-Ra anymore. Clearly, holding on to that part of herself, trying to reawaken it when she was supposed to let it go, was how she’d put everyone she loved in danger. People were whispering, and she knew it was about her. They knew what she’d done - probably recognized Catra’s robe, too - and knew she was the reason their kingdom had almost crumbled to dust twice, if it hadn’t been for Entrapta.

She walked back to Catra’s chamber in a daze, and found her awake.

“Hey,” she whispered, though the whole palace was probably awake by then. Her smile was so soft and unguarded that Adora felt weak in the knees and immediately hated herself for it. “What’s with the commotion outside? Did Entrapta blow something up?”

Her hair was still mussed from sleep, her voice rough, and she’d clearly been caught in the middle of putting some clothes on, so that she was wearing her pajama top and her party trousers. She looked gorgeous, and Adora hated herself some more.

“No, Entrapta didn’t do anything. It was me.”

Catra’s ears twitched to attention.

“Everyone’s okay, no one got hurt,” was what Adora prefaced everything with, which, _good job, Adora, making it look like you’re innocent._ “But the Heart went off again. The magic is still active inside, and it’s potentially dangerous until we figure out how to stop it.”

“Wait, _what_?” Catra shrieked. “How is that your fault? Are we sure no one got hurt - you should’ve woken me up right away.”

_I didn’t want you to see what I'd done._ “I lost control.” And she’d been so careful, so measured. She’d played with fire and wanted her powers back, and now the magic of the land responded to her again, because that was what She-Ra was meant to do. And magic could not be controlled. “Like I lost it at the Heart the first time. When I saved you.”

“The Heart fired on its own,” Catra said carefully, walking slowly towards Adora. “Shadow Weaver messed with it, remember?"

"Entrapta said the magical signature is the same now as it was then. Is her magic so strong that it causes random explosions a year after she’s been dead, or isn’t it more likely that this thing just reacts to _me_?”

Frowning, Catra reached out to her, but Adora flinched away.

“Hey, we’re going to fix this,” Catra promised, more softly than Adora thought her capable of. “No one will hold it against you - it’s not like you _knew._ And you said it yourself that no one got hurt."

"They could have. Don’t act like people weren’t seriously injured last time."

"And they recovered just fine!" Catra reminded her. "I was right there in the infirmary with them, and ultimately, no one was any worse the wear for it. I mean, Half Moon definitely was, but it could've used some renovation anyway. Why it took you burning it down for people to realize, I'll never understand."

"Can you _please_ not make light of that? I literally just found out. We're nowhere _near_ the time you can make jokes about it."

"Okay, okay, jeez," Catra mumbled, dropping back down on the bed. Adora wrapped her arms around herself to stop from following. "Adora, what's the problem? Now that we know what's wrong, we’ll talk to someone who can help you keep your magic under control. Perfuma looks zen enough."

"I _can_ keep it under control." It wasn’t a lie. Most of the time, she barely felt it - just a busy thrum, sitting comfortably under her skin, an invisible thread connecting her to all others. "Except for when it comes to you."

Catra froze on the spot, only her tail lashing out nervously - which is why, when she tried to play it off, it wasn’t too believable. “Okay. I guess I could join you for those mindfulness sessions, if that would help, and - maybe we could take it easy until then.”

Adora’s reply, when it came, sounded hollow to her own ears. “I would do _anything_ for you. I mean it, Catra -”

“You did. You saved me.”

“- and maybe that’s the problem.”

If Catra was frozen before, Adora could feel the ice coming off of her now. “I’m a _problem_?”

“Not you. My - feelings for you. I don’t want anyone to suffer because of what _I_ want.”

Catra scoffed. “Would you rather I had died? Because that’s what would have happened, if you hadn’t cared enough. Would that have been the more moral choice?”

Adora bit back tears. “You’re not listening to me.”

“No, you’re not listening to yourself.” Adora hadn’t heard Catra sound this bitter and disillusioned since their confrontation in the portal. “I would’ve _died_ for you. I gave everything for you, and didn’t ask for anything back - hell, I didn’t even think I would have _time_ to get anything in return. And now you, what - you regret it?”

“I _regret_ that it came at the expense of so many people’s pain, and that it could be even worse in the future.” Adora’s voice felt all strained and choked up, but she couldn’t afford to stop. Letting Catra draw her own conclusions usually led to more harm than good. “You think something’s wrong with _you_? Try again. Because there’s this part of me, no matter how small, that will always want to save _you_ first, and think about everyone else second. That wants to just stay with you, here, forever, and leave my wretched planet behind.”

Now, _now_ there was nothing more to be said. A grave silence fell over the room as Catra took in Adora’s words, and seemed to come to the realization that all that was left for her to do was beg - which was something Catra never did.

“Then do it.”

Adora stepped closer to her, hoping to provide what little comfort she could. “I’m sorry, Catra-”

“Please.” Catra crawled to her on all fours to clutch her hand, and this time, Adora let her hold it. She felt claws digging into her wrist. “Please, stay with me.”

Adora thought back to the story about the girl with long, magical hair. How she was able to bring back the one she loved without consequences, without realizing the terrible implications of holding the power of life and death in her hands.

But that was a fairytale, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I never put my Tumblr on here, so you can find me at [clacing](clacing.tumblr.com) if you want to follow, talk or ask me questions! I could probably start sharing snippets and fic playlists and stuff if anyone is interested.  
> As always, comments are very much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Adora's birthday and by God I'm getting her laid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM NOT DEAD. This chapter was just giving me a lot of trouble. I edited the first draft down to the bone and not only was I still terribly unsatisfied with it, but by then the writing had also gotten tired and stale. So I made a second draft, reworked it extensively, STILL wasn't satisfied, let it sit for weeks - until a few days ago I came across a plot bunny I absolutely HAD to include, which made the chapter way too long, which led me to cut the chapter in half (which incidentally solved pacing issues as well) - and here's the result.
> 
> That means this chapter and the next follow the same scheme as chapter 3 and 4 - the first half is mostly build-up, with most of the action in the second half. I hadn't planned it like that, but now I've got three 2-parters, each taking place in a different location (chapter 1 and 2 on Etheria, chapter 3 and 4 in Half Moon, chapter 5 and 6 on Eternia), which I really like the symmetry of. The last chapter will be an epilogue.
> 
> Even though not a lot happens here, fair warning that this really lives up to the M rating. It's not much more explicit than I usually write but I definitely do imply stuff!! Tons of stuff!!

The Pink Cliffs weren’t what Adora had expected.

Sure, she guessed they were pretty enough. A belt of asteroids shining in bright colors, like supernovas waiting to explode, extending as far into the bottomless, endless void as the eye could see. But what was more remarkable was the history behind them, and the mystery, most of all; Eternia had had thousands of years to explore the farthest reaches of the universe, had adapted to every new planet and kingdom’s technology and used it to enrich their own. But to that day, no one had ever managed to travel past the belt, not without suffering serious damage, at the very least, or getting killed, if one of those asteroids decided to come upon your route and hit you on the way.

It was the reminder they brought with them - the idea that even Eternians were human, that there was a limit to their knowledge and a limit to their endeavours. There was something about the vastity of the universe, the variety of possibilities for what lay beyond, that made it a perfect spot for memories that would last a lifetime, romantic getaways, even proposals - and, she supposed, scientific experimentation as well.

Entrapta could barely keep herself from jumping all over the observatory as she got the last few readings she needed to test the first interplanetary communication system - one that would be ready in no time, thanks to her diligence and to Counselor Magnor’s expertise. He’d joined them today to sometimes whisper about astrophysics into Entrapta’s ear, but otherwise limited himself to stern glares and a stiff mouth.

He didn’t have much sympathy for Eternia’s princess, but at least the feeling was mutual.

The other reason she wasn’t enjoying her day hovered at the edges of her mind, not pressing enough to cause discomfort but not fleeting enough to be ignored, either. It was a different kind of emptiness than the one she’d felt for her first year of rule, away from everyone she loved and with her and Catra’s relationship still frayed; this one came with the knowledge that they _could_ ’ve fixed things - were on their _way_ to fixing things - and she’d been the one to ruin everything.

She didn’t regret it, and she thought fixing things with one girl wasn’t worth losing a throne that had been entrusted to her. But every time she sent a letter, she made sure Catra knew that she wished things were different, at least. It didn’t help either of them, probably - but she wanted Catra to know Adora hadn’t just taken off and forgotten about her. She never wrote it, but _I still love you_ was on her mind all the time.

Catra never replied to any of her letters, their tentative correspondence faded to nothing like it had never even begun.

Entrapta’s tracker pad pinged, and Adora focused on the matters at hand. “Great! Connection is slow but steady. I can probably make it even better by adding a few antennae, if Eternia’s jurisdiction will allow me.”

The Pink Cliffs didn’t used to be under Eternia’s jurisdiction. Not until her ancestors had annexed Umbra, the planet they were standing on, the closest one could get to the Pink Cliffs without tipping over into the void. It used to be full of magic and life, once, more than a backdrop for Christmas postcards or wedding invitations; now it was one more planet for Adora to reign over. 

“Sure,” she replied blankly. “I’ll get the papers ready.”

“Then all that’s left is trying to send out a message. Adora, what’s the castle’s tracker number? Hopefully someone will get it and reply, so we can also test speed of reception-”

“I think that won’t be necessary,” Magnor’s steely voice interrupted her, taking out his own tracker pad. He peered down at it, eyes squeezed together behind his glasses to discern the shape of words. “They’re asking for us back at the palace. A foreign delegation has just arrived.”

Adora frowned. “The one from Earth? They’re a week early.”

“I don’t know, Your Highness.” He pronounced her title like he was spitting up poison. “But we’d better not keep them waiting.”

  


“Adora, can I ask you a question?”

Adora eyed Entrapta curiously as their ship quietly made its way back. The other girl wasn’t looking at her, seemingly too enthralled by the stars outside the window. She hadn’t so much as moved for the entirety of the trip, and only opened her mouth to express wonder, so this had to be important. “Yes?”

“Why does that guy hate you so much?”

Adora whipped her head back to make sure Magnor wasn’t listening, heart in her throat despite the fact that she was the _princess_ , but found him still manning the ship, too far from them to have possibly heard that.

“I wouldn’t say he _hates_ me,” Adora said, in her own defense. She didn’t think she’d done anything to warrant his animosity.

“My data shows he always stands far away from you and doesn’t talk to you until he’s spoken to. If that’s not hatred, could it just be deference to a sovereign?”

“Maybe,” Adora sort of lied. “He doesn’t particularly like me, that’s true. But he respects me enough to do as I say.”

“Is that a normal relationship to have with your subjects?”

It was an honest question, which Adora had trouble giving an honest answer to. “I don’t know. This is my first try. Everyone talks of my parents and even of my brother as incredible people and incredible rulers, but they left me with no directions and I have no idea what I’m doing wrong. I think it might just be the fact that I’m not _them_ , and - that sucks, because that’s the one thing I can’t change. So I’m just trying to do my best.” She eyed Entrapta, who was now staring back at her curiously. “Is that what it’s like for _you_?”

Entrapta shrugged. “No, most of my subjects are very collaborative. I built them to be.”

And it wasn’t like Adora ever chose the easy way out, exactly - no path laid out for her was ever _easy_ , but the fact that she was never the one doing the laying out, only following what other people told her was best, definitely didn’t leave a lot of margin for critical thinking.

“Does that make it better? That it’s not a constant struggle?”

She fully expected Entrapta to confirm it for her - that her robots understood, just as Adora’s counselors understood, and it was all they could count on in a world where things like love and friendship were luxuries they could not afford.

But instead of launching herself in one of her tirades, the older woman just said: “I guess it depends on what you’re struggling with,” and went back to her stars.

The rest of the ride home was silent.

When the ship entered port, she ordered Magnor to follow her directly to the throne room, where the delegation must be waiting. No time to change or refresh, even after the long journey - they had to be professional, even though a little warning beforehand from their incoming guests would have been much appreciated. She didn’t really check how Magnor took the news, but he didn’t groan or mumble under his breath, which she supposed was good. Magnor was one of her oldest counselors, and an absolute workaholic - she liked to think she had his approval on this, at least.

Adora threw open the throne room door, braid all messed up, and stomped on her dress all the way to the head of the delegation that stood facing the throne. “Hi, I’m really sorry to keep you waiting. When we received news of your arrival we were-”

She stopped, really looked at who was standing in front of her. About a dozen people, dressed up to the point of making her feel inadequate, cat ears twitching all at the same time when they picked up her voice. 

She was pretty sure there were no Magicats on Earth. She was also pretty sure this wasn’t the Earth delegation after all, since Catra stood at the head of it.

The thing about Catra was that she never did things halfway. Adora had never looked at her and felt indifference _,_ because Catra had ways of calling everyone’s attention in the way that benefited her the most. As of right now, it seemed her objective was not only to be taken seriously, as head of her delegation - possibly even an official ambassador, considering how smart Catra was - but also, to target Adora in particular and knock her out cold.

Catra had never been just pretty, or cute, or even handsome - those words weren’t big enough for how she presented. _Gorgeous_ or _beautiful_ had sometimes popped into Adora’s head, but now, after six months of only _remembering_ her, she realized how wrong even that was.

In practice, this meant Catra was, for once, not wearing red, but an elaborate black suit lined with intricate golden designs and golden buttons over a golden, untucked, undone shirt, so that her clavicles and the very top of her chest peeked out of her collar. Her hair had grown even longer, though Adora couldn’t be sure, since she’d put it up in a ponytail that swayed when she tilted her head to the side, smirking.

What it also meant was that, had they not been in public, Adora would have gotten to her knees. She would have grabbed a fistful of Catra’s shirt and ridden it up her torso and worshipped her with her mouth. But she couldn’t do that anymore; she had forfeited that right.

“Catra,” she still couldn’t help but whisper, in that reverent way only Catra evoked from her. Then, much more formally, almost snarkily: “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“You should’ve expected me, honestly,” retorted Catra. Her smirk was still in place, but Adora could tell when she was being playful and when she was being deprecative. This was the latter - it was clear as day that Catra didn’t want to be there at all. “You didn’t hold up both parts of our bargain.”

“What _bargain_?” Magnor’s voice came from beside her, eying Adora almost murderously. Adora had forgotten he was even here, and she could understand his outrage - though she _was_ the princess, major decisions such as political treaties should still go through council first. 

Adora would’ve defended herself, if she’d known what Catra was talking about, and a terrible doubt was starting to eat at her. She didn’t think Catra would refer to their relationship as a _bargain_. She didn’t think Catra would refer to it as a relationship at all - or at least, Adora hoped that would be the case in public.

“I know Entrapta is here to set up a communication system,” Catra pointed out, eyes clearly sweeping the room for Entrapta to back her words. As it turned out, Entrapta had taken an interest in a tall, brown-skinned Magicat, whose fur she was inspecting and who was obviously too nice to tell her to back off. “But we were also promised a way to connect to the Heart.”

Relief flooded her, along with just a tinge of disappointment. She finally noticed that the people around Catra - most of them her siblings, like Mira and Vee, among others she’d never seen before - were all staring Adora down like an enemy. Adora supposed she couldn’t have asked for more than that, since she’d destroyed their home twice.

“She’s working on it,” Adora interceded on Entrapta’s behalf, immediately defensive because Catra would have _known_ this, if she only read her letters. “I gave her access to the royal libraries and had her talk with some of our finest history experts, but the Heart is tricky. As far as we can understand, it was a once-in-a-lifetime project, and without Light Hope-”

“Well, it’s not that the magic can’t be released,” Entrapta finally cut in from the Magicat’s side, tapping away on her tracker pad to inspect some obscure parameters, “it’s that we still haven’t found a way to do it safely. You know, with absolutely no risk of collateral damage.”

“But it can be done,” was what Catra got from it.

“We _knew_ it could be done,” Adora pointed out. “I’ve set it off twice already.”

“Well, then figure out _how_ you did it, and you can do it a third and final time. What’s the issue?”

“ _What’s the issue?_ " Adora echoed back, astonished. "I don’t want anyone else to get hurt while I try to get the magic back for you.”

“But you didn’t know what you were doing back then. If you knew, you could trigger a more controlled reaction. We could evacuate Half Moon beforehand.”

It was a terrible idea, and Adora knew better than to tempt fate like that once again - but Catra would never accept that answer, not while she was hurt. Catra would take what she wanted and go out of her way to create as much collateral damage for Adora as possible.

“I don’t appreciate you walking in unannounced and telling me what to do.”

It was only a partial lie - Adora _craved_ the comfort of guidance, especially if it came from Catra. Catra could so much as hold her arms out right now, and Adora would sink into her and suck up every bit of warmth and reassurance she had to offer.

But _guidance_ wasn’t what Catra was here for.

“You wouldn’t want Eternia to be under threat of war, would you?”

Silence fell over the room as everyone scrambled to take that in; the Magicats themselves were surprised by Catra’s taunt, which had to mean she hadn’t discussed that possibility with them first. It made her less likely to follow through.

Needless to say, Adora wasn’t impressed. “Seriously?”

“It’s been six months. I’d expected you to have found a solution by now, and you have. You just refuse to act on it.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to come to _war_ ,” Adora scoffed, a response much less dignified than a potential declaration of war would have warranted - but this was _Catra_ , and war with her was something Adora knew how to handle. “You’d just be sending your people to die, which is exactly what I’m trying to avoid. We have magic on our side, at least."

Unfortunately, Catra also knew Adora. She knew her flaws better than anyone else, and she’d learned a very long time ago to turn them to her advantage.

"Would your people really fight for you, Adora? When they know _you_ 're the reason they're fighting? Or would they throw you to the wolves?"

Even in normal circumstances, Adora knew what the answer would be. Historically, Eternia had always been really good at creating conflict, and just as good at washing their hands out of paying the consequences.

But having to pay because their princess misspoke, during a meeting that her council hadn’t even been invited to attend - that had to be the greatest affront of all.

Of course, it wasn’t Adora’s fault that Half Moon had just _showed up,_ but she doubted the rest of Eternia would care.

Magnor grabbed Adora by the wrist with a bruising force that almost got him exiled on the spot. “Your Highness, I insist you let me call upon the rest of the council. They should be here for this.”

In the end, his obliviousness was his saving grace. Anyone who didn’t know Catra would undoubtedly think her a loose cannon right now, and she couldn’t fault him for his fear. Still, it was Catra she addressed with her next words.

"It won't come to that," Adora assured her, simply evading the possibility instead of outright refuting it, “if we agree to work together towards a common solution.”

Catra sneered - she always sneered now - in response. “We sure can accomplish more that way, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely. As long as it doesn’t interfere with any of your _duties_.”

“In that case, you can expect us to take our leave gracefully when the time comes.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Adora conceded the point, too tired to engage in a battle of wits. Catra seemed to notice that, but instead of getting smug about it as Adora had come to expect from whenever Catra won their arguments, her face dropped a little. “Then I welcome you to Castle Grayskull. We weren’t ready for you, but there should be plenty of empty rooms in the left wing. I’ll have someone escort you there.”

Catra raised an eyebrow. “And then?”

“And then you can get settled in for the night while I arrange for your stay.” It wasn’t everyday you had to make sure a dozen more people than usual got enough food, or enough servants to go around. It shouldn’t have been too much of a problem; Adora just wished she didn’t have to do this at the end of a long day because of Catra’s vengeful streak. “We’ll reconvene in the morning and talk this through.”

“Your Highness is too kind,” she mocked.

“I am. Now please, consider yourselves dismissed. I have matters to attend to.”

Everyone bowed on their way out. Not Catra, though. Catra didn’t spare another second looking at Adora before turning around and walking out, hands held behind her back and head held high.

Adora waited until she was completely out of view, just in case she looked back. She never did.

  


Adora had pictured Catra showing up out of nowhere and slipping into her bed for _months_ to put herself to sleep. Now that she was actually here, on Eternia, the thought of her only kept Adora awake - especially since Catra seemed to have no intention of joining her in her room. Adora had been the one to visit her in Half Moon, because propriety demanded that the princess stay in her room, and that others come to her; needless to say that propriety was the farthest thing from her mind _now_.

She thought it would count for something, showing Catra that she wasn’t ashamed of her, or afraid of anyone seeing them. That was why Catra was mad, right? Because of Adora never making her a priority.

And sure, it’s not like Adora could _marry_ her - she pictured how telling Counselor Rodin about it would go, seeing as they’d been trying to find a good political match for her forever; or worse, Selene, the royal dressmaker who’d _never_ convince Catra to wear a dress, and _why_ was she thinking about this now - but she _could_ prove she was sorry if only Catra _let_ her, and that she’d only left because of the specific circumstances.

Circumstances that seemed to come up a lot in Adora’s life.

She didn’t realize where her feet were taking her until she stood directly in front of Catra’s chamber, and found two Magicat guards blocking the entrance.

"Hi," she frowned. "Can I talk to her?"

They weren't Catra's siblings, or at least not any that Adora had been introduced to. They stared her down like they really wanted to ask if she was lost. "She doesn't want to be disturbed."

"I'm her best friend," she retorted.

"We know what Scorpia looks like," laughed the other one, sending her straight into a crisis. "You'll talk to her in the morning."

And well, Adora tried to be kind, most of the time, and didn’t like pulling rank unless it was absolutely necessary - like with people disrespecting her authority. She liked to think this was one of those cases.

“I’m the princess,” Adora insisted. “You’re my guests - unannounced, at that. I’d like to see her now.”

They stared at her, and then at each other, for at least five minutes, silently questioning what they should do, and for a second there, Adora thought they wouldn’t budge. Then, just as Adora was starting to wonder if reading each other’s minds was just one more thing Magicats were able to do, they knocked gently on the door, alerting Catra that someone was there to see her.

They didn’t say who it was, but Catra had to have known that no one but Adora would come looking for her at 1 AM, because the door opened and she was let in without much of a fuss.

She found Catra sitting on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Adora approached slowly, still unsure of what she was going to do, but giving Catra plenty of time to tell her to step back. She never did.

“You’re here,” Adora whispered, and it was like all the breath in her lungs had left with two simple words.

Catra refused to meet her eyes. “I’m here.”

Eternia had to be a lot colder than Half Moon, because Catra wasn’t in the usual tank top and shorts she wore to bed, but in a black shirt and _flannels_. It definitely wasn’t the suit she was sporting in the throne room, the one that almost wrought Adora’s end - nor anything that gave Adora easy access to Catra’s skin, as she’d selfishly, secretly hoped. It was just Catra, at her most open and vulnerable, and that vision smoothed out the edges of her desire, squashed the bud of urgency blooming in her chest - softened the touch of her hands when, overtaken by a simple rush of affection, she leapt on the bed, crawling into Catra’s lap, and drew Catra's face to hers.

Perhaps what was even stranger to her was that she felt Catra kissing back. Catra who had to _hate_ her, after everything Adora had done - Catra who’d stopped replying to her letters, who’d showed up at her castle looking like a goddess to _taunt_ her with what she’d lost, who’d refused, for all uses and purposes, to have anything to do with Adora anymore.

And yet Catra was kissing her, hungrily and open-mouthed, trying to stoke the delicious flames Adora had just stamped on in some cruel twist of fate.

Adora tried to guide her back into something slower, something careful - just tasting and remembering, drinking in Catra’s soft gasps. She wanted one of those kisses married couples would sometimes share, wishing each other a good night with the certainty they'd see each other in the morning, while Catra was trying to grow an entire tree out of Adora’s lungs and choke her to death.

Catra eventually pulled back harshly, and Adora felt the tear like it was happening to her own tissues, in her own heart.

"I missed you,” Adora whispered, regardless - as an aside, or as an excuse.

"Don't kiss me like that."

Adora was still so close to her their breaths mingled together. "Like what?"

"Like you love me.”

“I _do_ love you.”

Adora’s other hand moved to rest on Catra’s waist, and she had no idea where they’d go from there - but Adora imagined laying Catra back on the pillows, leaning over her, peppering her face with kisses for however long Catra let her. She’d whisper _sorry_ between every other breath, if Catra took her back. Except -

“That doesn’t matter though, does it?"

Adora’s hand stopped in mid-air. She tried to gauge Catra’s reaction, but her voice had been firm - perentory. No cracks that she could hear.

“Catra, I had to put the good of everyone else above my own.”

“Oh, please. You didn’t even stay long enough to clean up your mess, and you’ve withheld a potential solution from us for _months_. If you’re going to kiss me now, at least cut the bullshit.”

Adora frowned. "You want me to… kiss you like I _don't_ mean it?"

"We did it before."

But they didn’t, was the thing. Despite her alleged naivety - something Catra had challenged many, many times - Adora knew about drunken hook-ups. Though she couldn’t understand them, she knew all about people who only kissed at parties, or with a substantial amount of alcohol in their veins, and then went merrily on with their lives. If she didn’t understand any of it, it was because that hadn’t been her experience. 

"But Catra - I've never _not_ meant it."

"For God's sake," Catra groaned, clearly and unfortunately unimpressed by Adora’s continuous declarations of love, "can you just shut up? Can you do _that_ for me, at least?"

Part of Adora swore she wouldn’t let Catra sully what they’d been through and redefine what they’d had. It didn’t matter how hurt Catra was - she had Adora in front of her _now_ , trying to right her wrongs, and she was still turning her down.

But some other part rejoiced. Grappling in the dark, trying to figure out how she could make things turn out for the best, had never really worked for her. People telling her what they needed - what she could do for them - was the closest thing she still had to a sense of purpose.

And Catra, who’d brought She-Ra back for her, who’d made friends with Adora’s demons as well as her own - _Catra_ gave her purpose. She’d made Adora reliant on her, reminded her that it was how it would always be, and Adora would have her in whatever way Catra let her.

So she did as she was told. It was always what she was best at.

  


Catra had only wanted one thing in her life. She'd wondered what would happen to her once she finally got it - if she was going to be appeased, or if she’d empty out just as quickly as she was filled up, like she were a paper cup with holes carved into the sides - and for the longest time, she'd dreaded finding out to the point of dreading any happiness that would come.

She remembered Double Trouble taunting her about it and how frustrated she’d been with her perfectly good life, all because _Adora_ wasn’t part of it. How she’d walked a tightrope with her, taking just enough of what she needed but threatening to fall off the deep end at every touch.

Imagine her surprise when she _hadn't_ been the one to mess everything up. She’d taken all the right steps - welcomed Adora back into her life, opened herself up to her, started working on herself - and all of that had just been drained out of her. No anger, or sadness, or excitement had touched her until she’d seen Adora again in the throne room, and her first, genuine emotion in months had been a deep, black hatred that teetered on the edge of something else entirely.

She’d thought bringing her people along would make her feel safer. Yet hearing Adora go back on her promises again, talk about how she wouldn’t sacrifice any more people when she’d easily sacrificed Catra -

Maybe letting Adora reach out to her so soon was a bad idea. Catra got up and tried to go for the door, meaning to throw Adora out - but Adora’s fingers were already on her wrist, keeping her in place.

“I’m sorry,” Adora murmured under her breath. She was draped in darkness, but Catra could tell her hair was still up, and that she was wearing one of those frilly, lacy nightgowns she’d already found in Adora’s luggage in Half Moon. For some reason, it only made her angrier.

But then she had to add: “It’s not up to me to discount any options. I just want to make sure you make an informed decision, and - to me, that will always be the one with fewer casualties. But if you hear the other options and think this is still worth a try - then I’ll do it, okay?” A brush of her thumb over Catra’s skin - light, tracing her veins. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Could Adora feel her pulse like that? Catra felt it pound in her ears like a drumbeat.

“Please. Just stay.” 

The word always acted as a magic spell on Adora’s lips, already working to untense Catra’s shoulders and unburden her muscles, and a deterrent on Catra’s. It had taken her too long to realize that _staying_ meant two different things to them, and longer even to admit that she’d never be able to leave when Adora asked her not to. 

Catra respected herself too much to go back on her progress, but she hadn’t just taken up this mission - she’d been _entrusted_ with it. Right now, that meant finding a way to deal with Adora’s presence, if only because her people were at stake.

This time, when Adora kissed her, Catra didn’t try to stop her. 

She swayed in turn with Adora like she followed her lead on everything else - letting Adora happen to her like an avalanche, cascading down the side of a mountain. There was no point reflecting on it - you didn’t stop to think about how much avalanches sucked, or how much you wished they would stop, as they were dragging you down. You just let yourself be taken and hoped you survived it. 

Adora’s hands ran down Catra’s body like they had all the time in the world. Like she was in no rush, like she wasn’t whimpering against Adora’s lips at the feeling of Adora pressed up against her. Adora dug her fingers into Catra’s forearm for all of two seconds - the time it took Catra to gasp out a breath in Adora’s mouth, thinking _finally, finally_ \- only for Adora to _gently_ move her back, _gently_ lay her down on the bed, _gently_ start kissing the rest of Catra’s face.

She tried grabbing Adora’s chin, tried deepening her kisses, tried raking her nails down Adora’s biceps - but Adora always slowed her down, despite her breathing _also_ getting frantic in Catra’s ears.

It was driving Catra _crazy_.

But it was also interesting. Adora had never been too soft with her - their first kiss like a faucet had been opened, all that repressed emotion flowing in at once and converging onto Catra - and though their last time had been slower, Catra could tell Adora had been trying to make it good for Catra, nonetheless. But there was no real intent to this slowness, unless the intent was to frustrate Catra even more - and not in a good way. It felt indecisive - almost clumsy.

Adora’s hand started trembling on her way to Catra’s belt, and it dawned on her.

“Adora.”

“Yes?”

“Did no one take care of you in the last six months?”

Catra thanked her night vision for being able to see Adora’s blush. “How many times do I have to tell you,” she tried to keep her voice firm, the poor thing, “that it’s only you.”

Which was all fine and dandy, and part of Catra would have even felt proud of that under different circumstances, but. “Are you.... afraid you forgot how it’s done?”

“ _Maybe_.”

There was a heat pulsing between her legs, a tension coiling in her gut just because of Adora _touching_ her. Catra managed to ignore it for a while longer, just so she could gasp out a breathless chuckle against Adora’s lips. “Baby, that’s not just something you forget.”

She expected Adora to freeze entirely, then - she was touching Catra so slowly, it wasn’t going to take a lot. Instead, she shook like all her muscles had decided to give up at once, and collapsed on Catra’s chest, her head nuzzling the curve of Catra’s neck.

The heat sizzled down to a more soothing, enveloping warmth. It was still sweltering - especially where Adora was now pressing kisses, her teeth grazing Catra’s skin just lightly - but it gave Catra room to think. It gave her clarity enough to be willing to wait.

“But if you want,” Catra murmured into her hair, “I can take it from here.”

  


Morning found them curled up on opposite sides of the bed, like the previous night had never happened - with the exception of Catra’s tail, wrapped around Adora’s leg. That was what had woken Adora up, she thought; the way it flicked and moved from her ankle to her thigh and back again, inch further up everytime.

Adora couldn’t help but turn her head back to look. Catra was still on her side, facing the wall, and by the rhythm of her breaths she was either asleep or pretending really hard to be. Catra’s tail was known to move in her sleep, sometimes - especially when she was in the middle of a dream - and countless times Adora had woken up to Catra’s tail under her nose making her sneeze, or tickling her stomach.

This time, though, it made her uncomfortable in a different way. One that heightened the insatisfaction still pooling in her gut, despite how good Catra had made her feel. It was no secret to Catra that Adora could get _needy_ , after - that she’d want to hold Catra close while her heartbeat slowed down, cover her with kisses to make her appreciation clear at a time when words wouldn’t work. This cooldown period usually served as a lead-in, or sometimes an outright substitute, to reciprocation, because Adora always took her greatest pleasure in taking care of Catra, no matter the context.

But Catra hadn’t wanted Adora to touch her. Adora had taken everything Catra would give, and after a couple short reassurances Catra had just tucked her into bed, the lines of her back harsh as she curled in on herself and away from Adora.

She wondered if Catra regretted what they’d done. If she would pull away again, and not just in public.

She could’ve lain there for a long while, torturing herself with questions and slowly unraveling the frustration at the heart of her - but the sun was already up. A glance at the clock told her they weren’t late for their morning meeting, not yet - but it would be much harder for her to slip out of Catra’s room now.

If they were doing this again - and it was a big “if” - they were going to have to move to Adora’s room. Catra was definitely better than her at sneaking out, and there would be no need for guards to stand outside Adora’s room when protective spells existed that were far less annoying.

And then there was her private _bathroom_ \- oh, Catra would have loved it. It wasn’t as good as the baths in Half Moon, but it was richly decorated and had plenty of space and natural sunlight and - okay, maybe Catra would have hated it. But hey, a shower was a shower. Which reminded her - 

“Catra,” she called, and Catra’s tail froze immediately. Not asleep, then. “I need to get going.”

Catra huffed into the sheets, ruffling them. When she spoke, her voice was groggy. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,” Adora said. That caught Catra’s attention - one ear flicked up. “We overslept. The meeting’s in an hour.”

Catra groaned, burying her face in the pillow and bringing one side of it over her head, as if to shut out all the light and the noise. “Get back here, you idiot. People are going to see you.”

Adora, thinking she was proving her fearlessness, her lack of shame at showing everyone her relationship with Catra - thinking it was what Catra wanted, asked: “What’s wrong with that?”

“With being seen leaving the room of a foreign ambassador who threatened war during negotiations? Lots of things.”

She wasn’t _wrong_.

“You can shower in my room. We’ll leave when everyone’s already in the reunion hall.”

Adora kept one eye on the clock, her mind already calculating how long she would need to keep either of them from being late. Catra usually took longer than her to get ready. “Fine. I’ll go first and make it quick, so you can take all the time you want.”

“What’s the rush? I have a bathtub _and_ a shower.” Oh. Adora knew some of the guest bathrooms were doubly furnished, but she hadn’t thought one of them was _Catra’s_. She must have chosen the master bedroom for herself, which - well, she’d never liked luxury, but she sure liked living large. “Just pick one, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

The way she spoke, face still buried into the pillow, didn’t leave room to questions or interpretations. She just seemed to find no issue in suggesting that she and Adora bathe together - or, well, in front of each other - and honestly, there _shouldn’t_ have been. Catra and Adora had been cramped in the same shower after Horde training for all of their teenage years, and never once had it felt awkward. But now - she imagined Catra’s eyes on her, drinking her in, and felt herself burn up already. Catra just wiggled a bit and settled deeper into the covers, unaware of how much it made Adora want to make her _writhe_ \- or perhaps knowing it exactly.

But she wasn’tfollowing that train of thought.

And so, Adora opened the door to Catra’s bathroom.

It was definitely a master bedroom that she’d chosen - one fit for two, maybe three people - because the servants had placed two fresh sets of towels on the counter. Unfortunately, there was still only one toothbrush on the sink - Catra’s, flaming red like everything she owned - and it wasn’t like Adora could use _that_ , but she also couldn’t skip brushing her teeth. There was no telling what Catra had in store for her. Maybe they really would’ve just showered, and Adora would have had to forget about the leftover tension from the night before - or maybe Catra would have tried to kiss her again.

What if Catra emerged out of the bath, like the goddess that she was, and pushed Adora against the shower wall, only to be repelled by her morning breath? What if Catra then turned _back_ towards the bathtub and lowered herself into the water like one of those ancient monsters Adora read about in her mother’s books, and she never wanted to kiss Adora again?

Adora couldn’t take that chance. She squeezed some of Catra’s toothpaste out on her index finger and brushed her teeth with _that_ , and while it was certainly better than nothing, the strawberry taste that filled her mouth lingered even after washing it off.

She quickly became aware of the next problem. Why was she taking it for granted that she’d take the shower, and Catra would take the bathtub? Sure, Adora tended to gravitate towards quick, efficient, cold showers, and Catra towards larger spaces than a shower cubicle, both out of habit and for her own comfort; but the thought of being naked in front of Catra without even the cover of water froze her on the spot.

Even though they’d watched each other casually a hundred times, even though Adora _wanted_ Catra to watch her, she couldn’t pull herself together enough to take off her own clothes. If she was this nervous, this distracted while in the shower just because Catra was in the same room, she’d probably slip on the floor and fall on her head and die. Which would solve a lot of her problems, sure, but create just as many for those left behind.

Her panic reached its peak when she heard the door come loose again and Catra walk in, which forced her to make her decision already. Loudly, Adora announced: “Dibs on the bathtub,” and hoped it didn’t sound _too_ high-pitched for Catra.

If Catra noticed anything was wrong, she made no remark. “Sure. I’ll start the water for you, then.”

“It’s okay,” Adora said, but Catra brushed her off, kneeling by the bathtub to open the faucet and leaving Adora to deal with the fact that she was _still_ dressed, and that she’d have to lose her clothes in front of _Catra_ now.

Catra tested the water, seemingly figuring that it was temperature enough for Adora, and stood up, sparing her one single glance before walking to the sink. “I won’t look, you know,” she threw behind her back.

Adora could’ve pointed out that there was a mirror right in front of her, that Catra could’ve looked any time she wanted, but Catra’s reflection really was focused dutifully down, too busy washing her hands and her face in the basin. 

While Adora waited for the water to fill the tub - a large, circular bathtub, sculpted in stone and in direct view of the shower panes - she observed the oils and perfumes lined up on the edge of the bathtub, picking them up to figure out each one’s magical properties - Strength, Relaxation, Healing. She poured them all in the quickly bubbling water, along with just a drop of Allure. Actual love spells were still strictly forbidden on Eternia, and oils labeled this way usually only promoted clear skin and a flowery scent - but one could always hope.

Eventually, when the water was warm enough, she quickly took off her dress, her bra and her underwear, leaving everything in a pile by the foot of the tub. She kept her eyes on Catra the whole time, just to make sure Catra didn’t look back. She never did - not even the flash of an eye. Which was fine with Adora! She was glad Catra could respect her boundaries, and that having sex the previous night hadn’t made her feel like she was entitled to Adora’s body or anything. That would’ve been so unhealthy, although probably very desirable in the right context. Which definitely wasn’t this one.

As soon as she heard the splash that marked Adora finally getting in the water, Catra grabbed a couple products from the sink, brought them with her as she made her way to the shower, placing them in a nice little nook - then promptly lost all of her clothes in front of it.

Adora _could_ have positioned herself the other way, so she wouldn’t have to face Catra. But Adora did not even _think_ of tearing her eyes away when it happened. Catra had been so careful with her, perceiving her nerves, but Catra didn’t seem to be uncomfortable - and so Adora raked her eyes over her, trying to imprint the details to memory.

She knew that body. She knew everything about it - everything about _her_. She knew the backs of Catra’s thighs and how her knees shook when Adora took her, knew how her back arched under Adora’s kisses and how her hair felt all bunched up in Adora’s hands. She’d been too afraid the night before, wanted it too much - wanted it to be perfect at the same time, those desires too incompatible. She didn’t care about perfect now - she wanted Catra under her, and no amount of rationalizing that would make it go away.

She leaned back and heard Catra’s voice in her ear, pictured her kneeling behind her, an arm slung around her neck - whispering, _Did no one take care of you in the past six months?_

It was true in the way Catra meant it, but also in the more general sense. Adora had consistently refused any offers for help that came her way - from Bow and Glimmer, who Adora had shamelessly lied to about being fine; from her advisors, and Magnor most of all, and even from Entrapta. She’d taken on all of her people’s pain, and Catra’s people’s, too, and refused to weigh anyone else with burdens that were meant for her. But when she had allowed herself some reprieve, it had been with Catra, and that kind of transgression had been so unforgivable that Adora had spent the past six months punishing herself for it. 

But _this_ had to be the most atrocious part. When Catra had suggested preparing for the day together, she’d pictured something completely different. Catra wasn’t even _looking_ at Adora, but she _was_ putting herself on display for her. She showered carelessly, lazily, not giving much thought to what the water hit because it would have driven Adora crazy regardless - but every now and then there was a slight turn of the shoulder, a shift of the chin, as if she’d been about to turn back but changed her mind mid-movement, that seemed to ask _Are you watching?_

Adora was, and the message was clear: she would have to do something about it herself.

"Catra," she called, but her mouth was so _dry_ she was afraid Catra wouldn't hear. The words echoed in the large bathroom anyway, Catra's ears twitching at the sound. "Come here."

Catra froze under the jet, her shoulders rising with a huff. When she finally looked back at Adora, there was a glint in her eye - it reminded Adora of tigers hunting in the wild. “If you want something, Adora,” she said mellowly, more than the situation at hand required, “you need to learn to get it for yourself.”

It didn’t _sound_ like a refusal, but Adora tried to pick apart her words either way, stopping to check if there were any signs of protest on her face. Catra let her look, a smirk set quietly in place, but turned back again. 

Adora slowly rose out of the bathtub, doing nothing to stop the sound of water sloshing all over the floor. Let Catra hear. Let Catra tell her to turn back, or let her anticipate all that Adora was going to do to her.

Adora knew exactly what she wanted. By God, she was going to get it.

The steam of the shower flew into her face, enveloped her body as she got in. There was room enough for both her and Catra to stand without touching, but Adora wanted to be where Catra was. Wanted her warmth under her hands - her scent in her nostrils. Wanted to feel the expanse of her body, soft and pliant and _burning_.

She announced herself with a hand snaking around Catra's waist, pulling her closer to her chest until their hips fit together. Adora enjoyed Catra's full-body shiver more than she should have, and eventually had to fight back a shiver of her own when Catra fell back against her, head propped up on Adora's shoulder - her arm around Adora's neck.

Adora's other hand began exploring the hard lines of Catra's back, feeling how the muscles tensed wherever Adora touched. Fog-eyed, she pressed kisses down her spine, wanting to work out the knots there - for Catra to feel safe and relaxed, even when she had every reason to hate and mistrust Adora instead.

God, she hoped Catra did not hate her. She could bear the entire world hating her if Catra at least continued to love her - even as covertly as when they were on opposite sides of a war, even now that they could be on the brink of another. She prayed for her body to have dredged up every last drop of Allure as she guided Catra out of the spray and against the shower wall to kiss her better.

Catra’s lips opened immediately under hers, Adora’s tongue barely having to prod. Though Catra always unraveled so slowly, though Adora always had to goad her and exhaust her into truly letting go - the sound she released was heavenly, and it only spurred Adora on until they both stood under the dripping waterspout, wet and shivering and breathless.

 _The meeting_ , Adora was going to say, except Catra messily kissed her mouth shut while she tried to close the water. Then she backed Adora out of the shower, precariously guiding her on the slippery floor, and lay Adora down in the bathtub like it was a bed, or her final resting place, climbing in after her.

She shut her eyes tight, moans and gasps echoing in her ears, until white hot shame rippled through her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear here: the plot bunny I was talking about is NOT Allure turning out to be an actual love potion, or anything like that lol I would never do that.
> 
> The shower and bathtub scene was something I've wanted to write for a long time. When I was apartment hunting back in September I saw this house (that I DESPERATELY wanted, but that I wasn't picked for) that had a bathroom with a shower and a bathtub facing each other, and all I could think of was that it was a concept you could really have fun with, and here we are.
> 
> I can't express how important comments are to me. I would never abandon this story, but once or twice during my writing slump what brought me back was the thought of other people caring about it, too, and wanting to see how it ended. So if you've read this far, please, tell me what you thought!
> 
> Next chapter is already halfway done (and I'm actually satisfied with it so far), so it shouldn't take me too long to get it up. Hopefully by the end of the month!

**Author's Note:**

> Throwback to when I projected all of my emotional issues onto Adora, spent MONTHS worrying she would come across as too OOC, only for the graphic novel to confirm that I was right all along
> 
> This fic will most likely have between 3 and 5 chapters. 5 would be ideal but I'm a very slow writer who can't handle that kind of commitment. That said, I care about this fic a lot so if I leave it unfinished you have permission to come beat me up


End file.
